Sara: Hello everyone. It's September 11, 2011, ten years after the attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the crashing of Flight 93. So many people died that day, so we decided to write a little fic to remember the victims of the attacks. It's Adorable Pair because we sort of promised to write a fic for them.

Sky: Even though I'm English I find the attacks so sad. I pray for the victims and their families and anyone who was affected that day.

Sara: This fic is kinda based on my father's experiences on September 11. It hits so close to home because I live in New Jersey, and I could have lost both of my parents that day. God bless America.

Disclaimer: We don't own Prince of Tennis.

Coming Home
Chapter 1: Coming Home

September 11, 2001. I don't think anyone will ever forget that day, whether they are New Yorkers, Americans, or even Japanese.

September 11, 2001 was the day I nearly lost my heart.

September 11, 2001 was the day I nearly lost my other half.

September 11, 2001 was the day I nearly lost my Keigo.

./. .\.

It was Monday. I hate Mondays. Monday is the day that I have to go to university, the day I have to sit in a stuffy classroom and try not to fall asleep when I'm taking notes or listening to the teacher drone on about something I already know about.

But the worst of all, most Mondays are when my Keigo has to go away.

After graduating from Hyotei High School, Keigo's father passed away. An undiagnosed clot in his brain, the doctors said, that could rupture at any time. Keigo stayed home with his mother for weeks until she stopped crying.

The will was examined about a month later. The houses, cars, etc. would go to Keigo's mother, and the Atobe Corporation would go to Keigo.

He decided to leave a company in the hands of an eighteen-year-old boy.

Keigo did what most boys in his position would do: He didn't go to college, didn't even go to any of his classes, and took over the company for his dead father.

I have to admit that he was a good leader, all cockiness aside. He was firm and authoritative and polite (yes, even I am shocked) when he needed to be. Most of the workers in the Atobe Corporation decided that he was a considerably better CEO than his father, even though he was two and a half times younger.

Keigo was able to expand the company when he was only nineteen. That year it was China. The next, Korea, and so on.

This year it was America, New York to be exact. Keigo had managed to find a nice office in the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. I had seen the place many times in pictures, New York City. It's nice. Keigo said that he would take me there one day. He said that there were doctors there that could treat me for my sleeping problem… narcolepsy, isn't it called? I can never remember.

Oh, you're probably wondering about our relationship, right? It was an accidental thing, actually. A few years ago, when we were twenty-one, Keigo was cracking under the pressure of owning one of Japan's largest companies, and I just happened to be there when he broke down. I had cried with him because I had never seen my Buchou so distressed before, and we've been inseparable ever since.

I moved into his Tokyo penthouse suite last month. There were still boxes that I needed to unpack, but I said to the servants that they should not to touch them. I told Keigo that it was because I wanted to keep our relationship 'fresh'.

I was always afraid that he will leave me. Keigo was the only person who had ever known about my sleeping problems and tolerated them. Even Oshitari got aggravated if I would fall asleep in the middle of his lecturing me. I couldn't ever be alone, and I refused to go to a hospital.

I was always afraid.

./. .\.

I woke up early Monday morning. When was the last time I woke up early? I thought groggily. If I had the choice I would stay in bed all day.

The other side of the bed was empty, and I sighed. It was five o'clock in the morning, so I assumed that Keigo was already reading the newspaper with a mug of coffee in his perfectly manicured hand. I showered, got dressed, and trudged to the kitchen to join him.

"You're up early, Jiroh," he commented and looked at me over his paper. He sipped his premium quality coffee – ore-sama doesn't drink instant – and waved to the chair next to him. I sat in said chair and played with my scrambled eggs, waiting for him to say something.

"It's Monday," I finally muttered after the silence between us became oppressive. He merely nodded.

"You're going today, aren't you." My voice was flat, no question in it whatsoever. He nodded again, and I sighed. That meant I would have to spend the next two or three days in an empty suite with no one but the occasional servant and house keeping to keep me company.

"I have to, Jiroh," Keigo said in exasperation. "It's my job. Itsuki is sick and I need to attend some meetings in New York for him."

I sighed again – it seems like I'd been doing that a lot lately.

"I just miss you. I wish you didn't have to go so often."

His expression softened and he put down the newspaper. He took my hand in his, and I leaned into that touch softened by aloe infused lotion. He hadn't touched me this way in a long time, had barely laid a finger on me since he'd been so busy. Most nights I went to bed and found him still awake several hours later.

I wondered if I shouldn't have moved in with him. It was so much more comfortable when I was still living at home and Keigo would actually make an effort to be romantic. Now our relationship was empty silences and annoyed glances.

"I love you, Keigo," I murmured, looking into his gray eyes hopefully.

"I love you too, Jiroh."

He rewarded me with a chaste kiss on the lips, and I wanted to do nothing but make the kiss longer and deeper. But of course, he pulled away before I had a chance to do so.

"I have to go," he said, his eyes still soft. I still couldn't get over how different he looks when he stared at me like this; it was like he became a whole new person. I hugged him around the waist and wished I never had to let go.

"I'll be back on Wednesday morning. Just three days, Jiroh. And I promise I'll make it up to you then, okay?"

I barely heard the words, just buried my face into his chest.

After a few minutes he pried me off of him and held me at arm's length. I felt like I was on the verge of crying, but I was so unwilling to do so in front of him. Ore-sama might not think of me as worthy of his prowess if I did so. At least I had Wednesday to look forward to.

I didn't see him off that day. I never had before, because I was always afraid I'd break down in front of him.

Oh how I'd come to regret that decision.

./. .\.

After Keigo left, I got ready for school. What did I have today… psychology? Was that it? I didn't even know why I went to class anymore, because with my problem I couldn't do anything anyway. I'd just be a dead weight on Keigo and eventually he'd leave me…

No, idiot! What was I thinking? Keigo loved me, he said so all the time…

Ahh, but why hasn't he touched you in a month? a nasty voice whispered in my ear. He leaves you so often that he could have lovers in every city for all you know!

I was crying, I realized. I was crying and I was hurting so bad. All different kinds of hurts, too. It was like my body was pulling itself in a whole bunch of directions at once, and it was ripping me apart.

I walked to school because I didn't want the chauffer to see me cry so he could report it to Keigo. If I could have one wish, just one wish, I would wish that I knew if Keigo really loved me.

./. .\.

Narcolepsy really is a pain sometimes. I fell asleep during class at least a dozen times (and I got a smack with a ruler at least dozen times, courtesy of my professor), woke up shrieking because of a dream, and was sent out of the class because I had 'disrupted the lesson'. Yeah, narcolepsy really sucks.

But I was home. I was home and I could collapse in bed and sleep in peace until I had to start all over again tomorrow.

I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the mattress – gee, Keigo can really pick out great (but expensive) things. I had no trouble falling asleep and succumbed to the world of dreams almost instantly.

I am walking through a field – a field? I wonder. I've never seen a field in Tokyo before. The grass is lush and comes up to my ankles, and I can feel crickets brush over my bare feet. The sky is the loveliest shade of blue, and I tip my face towards the sun. It's so beautiful here, I think.

I've been here once. I remember Keigo taking the tennis team here once for some training. I don't remember that much since I'd been asleep the whole time, but it's hard not to remember something as beautiful as this.

I don't know where I'm walking. It's like something in my subconscious is telling me where to go, like how a salmon knows how to swim back to the river in which it was born. I guess that's what happens when you dream.

My subconscious takes me to a huge tree in the middle of the field. I slept in the shade here once, I think, while the others were running through the grass.

As I walk closer, I can see something nailed into the bark of the tree. It looks oddly like a plaque, like the ones you find on park benches. It's odd that I found one in the middle of nowhere, though.

I'm finally close enough so that I can read the sign. I have to squint because the plaque is already covered with dirt and rust. It says:

Atobe Keigo
October 5, 1976-September 11, 2001
A beloved son, partner, and friend.

I woke up and screamed.

./. .\.

It took a while for me to calm down, as it usually did when I had a nightmare. I hadn't had one in ages, so this one particularly frightened me. I looked at the clock beside the bed. 9:46, it read. Oh shit, I was late for my first class.

I decided to skip class for today. I was still tired and I obviously wouldn't be able to concentrate with the nightmare on my mind, so I decided not to even try. Keigo would probably chew me out for it later, but I didn't care.

I ate some breakfast, I slept, I studied, I slept again. It was a pretty relaxing day, I thought. Well, except for the nightmares.

I kept having the same one over and over again. Walking through the field. Relishing in the warmth, the light, the beauty. And then walking up to my lover's grave, already worn and old and forgotten. What does it mean? I asked myself. Today is September 11, 2001. Are the dreams some sort of premonition? Or is it just my imagination getting out of hand?

I dismissed the first thought and, after a while, the second. I'd never had much of an imagination before.

It was 9:46 again, except this time it was pitch black outside. There were days during the summer when at this time it would still be light out, but those days were long gone. Soon it would be time to turn on the heater again.

Tired of sleeping and eating and studying, I turned on the TV. It was already set to a news channel, probably from when Keigo was last home. I made a move to change it since the news almost always depresses me, but the image on the screen made me freeze and made the breath catch in my throat.

Two towers stood straight and tall among the rest of the skyline I had seen in so many pictures before. It looked like a beautiful day in New York City, sunny with a thin veil of clouds, but something dark began to swirl in the sky.

The buildings were the Twin Towers. And one of them was smoking.

I don't know what I thought in those few moments when I watched the North Tower get hit. I suppose I was worried, and shocked, and panicked, but too much adrenaline was pumping through my body for me to notice.

Keigo.

I fumbled with my phone and somehow managed to dial the right number.

"C'mon, c'mon…" I muttered, bouncing on the couch and praying that he would pick up.

Hello, this is Atobe Keigo…

"Keigo!" I sighed in relief. "Did you hear the news? Were you at the office? I was so worried!"

Please leave your name and number after the beep, and ore-sama will return the call as soon as possible.

"Oh."

Keigo always picks up his phone, I thought. Always. If not he would call back in a second.

So I called Oshitari. He knew Keigo even better than me.

He picked up after the first ring.

"Jiroh," he greeted curtly, not sounding worried at all. "Have you seen the news?"

"Yes, Yuushi. Could you get into contact with Keigo?"

"No," he replied. "All mobile service in New York City has been temporarily shut down."

I bit my lip and twisted a lock of hair around my finger. "Thanks, Yuushi," I finally murmured into the phone.

"Call me if you hear anything, okay?"

I said okay and hung up.

./. .\.

The second plane crashed into the South Tower seventeen minutes later, at 9:03 AM EST. I'll never forget the sounds that I heard at that time; it was a melody of screeching metal and the collective groan of the people of New York City.

Keigo still hadn't called back, and I had taken to pacing across the living room floor.

"Master Jiroh, may I help you…?" one of the servants whose name I cannot recall asked nervously. He was a nervous man, always wringing his hands and speaking in a quivering tone.

"Get in contact with Keigo," I snapped back. My body was tensed up like a coil, and the servant flinched at my harsh tone.

"Yes, Master." He bowed and left.

The South Tower collapsed around ten o'clock, and the North Tower at ten-thirty, Eastern Standard Time. All the while the anchormen and women were shouting that subways and trains and planes and busses were inoperable at the moment.

And Keigo's private jet, I thought I was glued to the television screen.

Would he be able to get back? Would he be hurt? Or is he already…?

I decided not to think about it.

./. .\.

September 11, 2001 was by far the longest day of my life. I continued pacing around the suite for hours until my legs gave out, and even then I kept fidgeting on the couch.

I could still hear screaming ringing in my ears. For those who didn't want to die by burns or the buildings' collapsing, they threw themselves out of windows, some of which were over one hundred stories high. They screamed as they fell to their deaths.

The television was turned off now.

./. .\.

Five, six, maybe seven hours had passed since the towers fell. I was fighting the sleep that insistently made me yawn and made my eyelids droop, but I drank coffee and took my stimulants to keep me awake. I wanted to be lucid if… no when Keigo would come through those doors.

He didn't come.

./. .\.

I cried that night, the whole night. I cried the tears of a child at first, hysterical sobs racking my chest and making me tremble. Then I cried the tears of a man, grievous and heartbroken.

After I stopped crying, Keigo came home.

I hadn't heard him at first – he can really be a ghost sometimes. I was still curled up on the couch, the occasional sob breaking through my chest, tears dried on my face. When a hand reached out to comfort me, I took no notice of it.

"Jiroh…"

My head snapped up at the sound of that voice. It was soft and scared like the voice of someone who had just escaped death.

Well, in a sense he had.

"K-Keigo!" I stammered. It sounded more like a croak, though, because of all the crying earlier.

Keigo's hair was nearly as white as his face. The silver locks were covered with plaster and dust, as was the rest of his outfit. It seemed like ore-sama was too traumatized to wash up before coming home. If I weren't so relieved I would have found it comical.

His eyes were something I also couldn't forget about that day. One moment they were dull, dead, lifeless… and the next they were loving and kind and caring, and my heart swelled so much that I thought it would burst out of my chest.

He took me in a rib-cracking, spine-snapping hug, and I returned it with as much force as he had. I breathed in the scent of his cologne and breath spray and the plaster in his hair.

We didn't have to speak or kiss like some couples do when they are reunited. We both knew what we wanted to say, to do, and we were fine with just knowing.

It was Keigo who finally broke the silence, his voice like a siren song.

"I'm home, Jiroh," he whispered in my ear. "I'm home."

Sara: I was really thinking of writing a short epilogue. Oh well. If you want it, please review and tell me. I hope you enjoyed this fic, and I pray that you're safe on this day, September 11, 2011.