Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis and its characters belong to Takeshi Konomi.

Main pairings: SanaYuki, YanaYuki, YanaKiri, MaruiJackal, NiouYagyuu, AtoJi, TezuFuji, TezuRyo, OishiEiji, YukiFuji, AtoFuji, AtoYuki, and many more, really. Plus Minus, depending on how the story progresses.

Pairings for this Chapter: AtobeYukimura, SanadaYukimura. More to come.

Renaissance

Chapter 1: This World of Mine

Atobe stepped onto the gravel pavement, whose face was painted an odd assortment of colours. He heard Oshitari give a faint sniff of disapproval and disgust, echoing Atobe's inner thoughts. All around them, the City was dying. Graffiti painted the walls, buildings lay in semi-ruins, and it wasn't just physical degeneration of Tokyo 2101. No. Atobe just watched impassively as a bedraggled looking man shoved a young girl walking the streets incautiously into a back alley way. Oshitari looked at him in slight consternation.

"Are we going to help her?"

No. Atobe was already running late for his meeting with the one man in Tokyo that he held a certain grudging respect for. And if he couldn't discover this man's plans, then Tokyo might as well wrap a price tag around itself that says "Sold, to Totalitarian control". It did not matter to him if one girl suffered from the social disintegration. After all, one leaf does not an autumn make, and Atobe had his eyes set on a larger goal.

This led, inevitably, to the formation of Hyoutei. And they all believed in one thing, in Renaissance. There had been a time when Atobe had been richer than imaginable, but that's all one. And no, while it was not a grudge that he was bearing, he wanted his City, once marvellous and held in high regard by the world, to regain it's former status. Atobe knew of another man who wanted the very same thing. Though, honestly, he had very different ideas of how to go about doing this.

Atobe beckoned towards Oshitari, his second in command, and they walked towards the narrow gap between two run down buildings, similar to all the other gaps unless you knew what was behind it.

They turned through a series of dark alleyways, the miserable occupants piercing them with hungry eyes, lusting after their wealth and yet intelligent enough to note the barrel of the gun slightly exposed below Atobe's sleeve. At last, they came out into the open again, though the devastating sight that met Atobe's eyes drew a raised eyebrow from him.

Trust Yukimura to set up Headquarters in the Ghetto.

All around them, crime was taking place at abundance, Graffiti covered all buildings excessively. The early evening sky was hues of orange and pink blending into purple, and tinted nicely with an appealing shade of grey, that was really pretty, unless like Atobe, you studied Geography before and knew exactly what caused it. The people around them regarded them with suspicion, nothing unusual as they were outsiders to this side of the wall, and by the looks of it, were luckier in riches. The buildings separating this side of the wall, this Ghetto, from the side Atobe was used to, served its purpose of a re-enactment of the Berlin Wall, so many centuries ago. The bridge between the two similar, yet terribly different façades of Tokyo was manned and watched. Atobe knew that Yukimura would never let anyone enter his territory without permission. Such was the law of the idiosyncratically despotic.

As if to agree with Atobe's thoughts, a man emerged from the shadows of the alleyway across the dilapidated street with its asphalt flowers, and …moved towards him. Technically, the word Atobe would have used to describe the movement was fluid. It did not take a Genius (though Atobe was way above that level already) to realise that the man was a skilled Hunter, one of Yukimura's top. The Hunters were the exclusive hitmen that were used only in important and critical situations. To send one personally to fetch him, either Yukimura was losing control over the denizens of his territory, or he was once again dwelling in acts of coerce.

Atobe would love to think that it was the former that induced the sending of the Hunter, but Yukimura was seductive above everything else, and despite Atobe's well wishes, it was damn near impossible for him to lose much control over these suckers, especially when he had so much to offer.

The Hunter strolled with a brisk smoothness that stopped in front of them, and Atobe could not help but feel taken aback once again. This man was well known. He wore an odd trenchcoat that was not-quite-black but not-quite-anything-else-either, and the black affair that he was donning under that that was covered with bizarre white dust. Atobe would have believed the look of artful dishevelment if it wasn't for the designer sunglasses, tinting and hiding the man's eyes. More artfully unkemptness was exhibited in the form of white-bleached hair, wild and messy and ending in a tiny ponytail tied up Ancient-Modernistic Shanghai style.

Niou Masaharu, one of Riikai Dai's Elite. Atobe did not know what Yukimura was playing at but he did not want to play along. He only hoped that Oshitari had schooled his evident shock back into the nonchalant disguise he always wore.

"He's waiting. You're fucking late." Niou's voice was brusque, as discourteously blunt as he could possibly be. It also carried an undertone of impatience, and malevolence but Atobe found himself wondering how much of it was Niou's true feelings, and how much was Niou's depicting of Yukimura's view. Everyone knew that the Trickster, Niou's official nickname in their little twisted world, sheared his opinions all out of proportion that no one could understand it. Atobe did not reply to Niou's blatant jibes, but motioned for him to lead on. Behind Atobe, Oshitari tensed for a moment, before following suit.

Niou spun around on his heels, and Atobe's schooled passive gaze landed on the back of Niou's trenchcoat. If you were purposely looking for a symbol, you would have found the Rikkai Dai Syndicate emblem embedded on the back. But only if you knew what you were looking for, otherwise most would miss the sable insignia. Black on black was the official dress code for the Syndicate's Elite, in a midst of all the tainted colours of their decaying world. Though it was galling, Atobe had to admit that Yukimura, the autocratic bastard, had style. And boy, did he know how to flaunt it.

The long walk through Yukimura's dilapidated domain was relatively peaceful, despite the tense atmosphere. As they passed a group of youngsters vandalising a car, Atobe was glad that the Wall of buildings prevented him from driving through in his Bentley. That could have been disastrous. Niou stopped suddenly, standing in front of a tiny shop in the middle of the row of boutiques. The sign on the shop said 'close', and it was suspiciously, the only one that had no vandalisms or graffiti on it. As Atobe was about to follow Niou through the unlocked door, Oshitari tugged hastily on his sleeve and pointed at the symbol carved out onto the brick wall separating one shop from another. The carving was traced with black paint.

Niou stopped in his tracks and threw Atobe a mildly quizzical look. Despite this, Atobe and Oshitari still took their own time entering the building. It was run down and unkempt in the inside as well, dusty shelves and broken glass covered the expanse of the room. Niou was already behind the counter, and it was then that Atobe noticed the door there.

Through the door was a dark corridor filled with doors on either side, and Atobe was secretly grateful for Oshitari's solid presence behind him. The vibes he was getting from the place was not overly friendly, though not exactly aggressive either. Niou paused in front of a door and knocked on it politely. It was, Atobe thought, the closest he was going to see of the Hunter showing anybody respect. A beautiful voice answered the knock. "Come in," it called back out, and Niou nodded once to him, before disappearing back into the darkness. There was nothing else to it. Atobe pushed open the door and entered a resplendent room, with a resplendent creature sitting behind a desk.

Yukimura Seiichi had looks that could rival his voice. But Atobe refused to drop his guard. He would not become like Sanada, the Emperor of Rikkai Dai, and second in command to Yukimura. Sanada had once been a Superintendent in the Government's Organised Crime Department. Once, he had owned the title of Justice. But that was all in the happier past. As it was, Atobe scrutinised the lovely man in front of him, before sitting down in the elegant chair laid out for him. Oshitari took his respective place behind him.

"Do you know why I called for this meeting?" Yukimura's voice was laced with deceptive sweetness. The undercurrent was swift and deadly.

Atobe knew that the reason was unspoken, as speaking would verbalise the treachery of entering into such a pact. Still, there was an even more urgent matter at hand. He needed to know. "You have Fuji Syusuke."

The lethal smile became devastatingly fatal as Yukimura's smile turned pleased. "Perhaps I do. What's it to you?" Atobe hated the way Yukimura's voice was smug, knowing that he could do nothing about it.

"He can't be here," Atobe insisted, "he's loyal to Tezuka. And Tezuka hates you." Yukimura raised a lofty eyebrow, as he steepled his hands reflectively. "Brilliant, Atobe, but your famed Insight is failing you." He paused, as if considering his answer.

"Tezuka never hated me. Quite the opposite, actually."

Atobe faintly heard Oshitari's sharp intake of breath, indicative of his subordinate's shock at that. Rikkai's and Seigaku's Elite were always at loggerheads. There was no way an alliance had been formed…and yet for Fuji Syusuke to be in Rikkai Dai's turf, to be allowed anywhere near. Their two leaders must be going crazy.

"Aren't you interested in knowing what Fuji is doing here?"

Atobe nodded his acquiescence. He wanted to know. Badly.

Yukimura's eyes shined with amusement, as if he knew what Atobe was thinking. Privately, Atobe thought that all evil syndicate leaders should be hideous, then you'll stop getting distracted by their slender bodies, their full lips, their perfect faces unmarred by imperfections…

"Fuji Syusuke," Yukimura began after he was sure Atobe had refocused on the topic at hand, "felt betrayed by his beloved leader. Just blame it all on Echizen Ryoma." Atobe's brow furrowed. He knew that name, everyone did. The boy was practically termed as the Messiah of their fading world.

"Fuji needed help badly. Are you aware that his brother is currently working in the St. Rudolph Elite?" Atobe couldn't control his stare. Yukimura's smile, if possible grew even wider.

"I didn't think you did. After all, my Gentleman's talents are exclusive." Yukimura licked his lips slowly, almost absentmindedly, and Atobe felt his lips run dry of their own accord.

It was here that Oshitari interjected. "But Yukimura-san," he said respectfully, "what difference does it make if his brother really is in St. Rudolph, and why does Fuji need help?" It was here that Yukimura laughed out loud.

"Oshitari-kun, isn't it obvious? Fuji came to us for help to get his brother back. St. Rudolph's manager Mizuki Hajime, was Fuji Yumiko's murderer. Surely you wouldn't want your younger brother hanging around with his elder sister's killer?"

"My main purpose of calling this meeting between us, is because I do not want war with Hyoutei when I am going to be fighting two at the same time. I don't need and will not appreciate the trouble." At this, Yukimura's gaze became intense. "We're not above ruthlessness, Atobe Keigo, any more than we are beyond manipulation."

Indignation coursed through Atobe; it wasn't as if he declined the allegiance Yukimura was proposing, but he wanted to know more first. "What does Hyoutei get out of it?"

Impatience flickered in Yukimura's eyes for a brief moment, before it disappeared. "Safety, protection, peace. Treasure that Atobe. We don't get much of any nowadays."

Good point. "And your plans are?"

After Yukimura heard this question, Atobe's perspectiveness picked out a slight tensing in his posture. It was as if Yukimura was hesitating to disclose his plans. Then the fine-looking young man squared his shoulders and that teeth-grittingly impeccable smile was back on.

"I wish to facilitate the elimination of St. Rudolph," he said almost thoughtfully, "purely on Fuji's whim, of course." Then the smile disappeared and his face wore an expression of intense determination, which was probably the reason why he sat at the head of his Syndicate, and at their world. "Then, I want to send Seigaku's Pillars crumbling." He paused once again, putting careful consideration into his next words.

"Starting with Echizen Ryoma, of course."

Atobe tilted his head upwards to look at Oshitari. "What do you know about Echizen?"

Oshitari frowned a little, deep in thought, before answering Atobe straight from his photographic memory. "Echizen Ryoma, nineteen years, blood-type O. Youngest Elite member of Seishun Gakuen, holds their official title of Ace. Current job position…Hunter."

Well, that pretty much explained Yukimura's plans. The Aces were those being trained to replace the current Leaders of the different factions. If Ryoma was Seigaku's Ace, then it was no wonder that Yukimura wanted him out of the way. Then eliminating Tezuka would leave Seigaku leaderless and weak. Atobe, however, had no clue how Yukimura would be going about accomplishing this. It's not as if Seigaku left their Ace lying around, knowing fully well that ruthless people like the man sitting opposite him exist.

And Yukimura's mentality, coupled with Sanada's shocking practicality and Renji's brilliant strategies, usually result in something insanely eccentric, yet terribly successful.

"So," Atobe suggested casually, despite his eyes narrowing into seriousness, "letting the Trickster loose on the boy? He's barely adolescent." Yukimura's expression grew contemptuous, and his smile was lofty, almost mocking, as he thought of Echizen Ryoma. "No, I wouldn't do that. One must keep one's hand in, after all. Rusty skills are all that can be developed if I sit in a chair all day."

Poor Echizen, Atobe thought. The boy would never hold a chance against the man whose reputation as Hunter had surpassed legendary

AN: Hey hey, sorry bout the slow update for my other fic, Last Chances. But wanted badly to put this down on paper. Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter, more Rikkai and Seigaku. Echizen Ryoma bumps into Sanada Genichirou, back in Main Tokyo 2101. Please R and R!