I forgot, what was my motive for writing this again?

Oh, wait. That's right. Today (12/4/08) is Niou's birthday.

Enjoy.

Truth

Niou Masaharu leaned back in his seat, listening to the leather creak as he shifted his weight from one side to the other, getting overly-comfortable for his hour-long visit with Dr. Inoba, his parents' sick idea of a good way to spend his Sundays, especially since he's always doing something tennis-related or at his friend's house, who, by the way, they haven't met yet and would like to know very soon or else you're going to be grounded, Mister. Niou personally thought that this idea, besides trying to teach Marui table manners, was one of the biggest wastes of time he could think up of, but didn't say so because he didn't want to be babysitting his younger brother when he could be playing tennis.

"So, Masaharu-kun," the bald-headed doctor started, smiling that fake smile all doctors have to perfect before they can get their Master's degree. "How have you been?"

A grunt. Niou put in as little effort as possible, unless he cared about what he was doing. Seeing a shrink because your parents are insane and think you are too isn't something he cared about.

"Have there been any difficulties relating your family? Your tennis team?" Niou wondered when Dr. Inoba would just snap and start chucking things at Niou. On an average day, Niou would say one or two words in the entire hour, usually as last resorts. Bad days were when Niou would say a sentence or more and good days were when the quack would let Niou out early because he couldn't take the silence anymore. "How about your friends? Are they treating you well? Masaharu-kun?"

A light rise and fall of the shoulders. There was no way in hell that Niou was ever going to release any sort of vital information on his life. You can go around telling people the most harmless of things—the fact that you have siblings, or maybe what day your birthday is—and then someone you thought you could trust could find a way to horribly twist what you've told them into something that'll help give them the upper hand. Niou was the one who should have the upper hand, not someone else.

The doctor sighed, starting to get aggravated. Good. Just what Niou wanted. Soon, he'll start spewing out meaningless statistics about teenagers today and their habits and I'm worrying about you, Masaharu-kun, you never say anything, is there something that's bothering, are you being pressured by someone, is there drugs involved, you know you shouldn't do drugs and then Niou tunes him out.

Shifting in his seat again, Niou starting talking. "Y'know, doc, I do have somethin' to say."

He peered over his so-thick-you-could-probably-be-able-to-see-into-the-future-with-them glasses, Dr. Inoba scribbled something at the same time he asked very cautiously, like a policeman to a mentally unstable suspect, "What is it, Masaharu-kun?"

Ignoring how the way the doctor said Niou's name in such a way that Niou had the sudden, violent urge to strangle him, he just laid his hand on his right fist and sighed, looking apprehensive. "Well…" He paused, biting his lip. "You see… It's about fakin' personalities…"

Leaning forward in his seat, Dr. Inoba nodded, still scribbling in his notebook. "Faking personalities? Yes? Please do continue."

Niou leaned forward, shifting so that his hands were tightly grasping each other. "The truth is, doc, that I'm originally from Saitama, like my 'rents… And," he stopped, shifting uncomfortably again. "We don't use this kind of dialect."

Totally and completely enraptured, Dr. Inoba nodded again.

"M-my partner, Yagyuu," Niou said, voice starting to become breathless. He tightened his grasp on his own self, nails digging themselves into his skin, leaving small, red marks in the shape of a crescent moon. "He told me that how I usually speak is…weak. He… He forced me to change it." Niou squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering as he recalled the past.

"He said, 'I intend to go with the manners and character of a gentleman,' " Niou's voice implied that he was very obviously not one. " 'And I would like for my companion'—that's me, I'm his little pet—'to become the petenshi, the trickster, imposter.' "

Voice starting to crack and shoulders starting to shake, Niou continued. "A-and… 'What do you think, Niou-kun?' he asked in his all-too-fake voice. 'Are we settled then? The Gentleman and the Trickster, Cavalier and Imposter. It has a wonderful sound to it, don't you think?' "

Shuffling in his seat, Niou turned to stare out the window. "And, in order for me to be able to compete against Seigaku's Kikumaru, he told me that I had to use somethin' to end my sentences, like 'pyo' or 'puri'." He started shaking again. "I don't even know what those mean!"

Niou glanced up, eyes wide and hopeless. "Listen, doc, it's… It's hard for me to keep playin' a role, a character who I don't even know." He stared at the floor, silent for a long moment before speaking again. "All I want to do is play tennis normally."

"Masaharu-kun," Dr. Inoba started, voice soft and tender. "Why do you go to such pains to disguise yourself? If you don't let your real self show, your actions will forever be an imitation."

Niou nodded slowly.

"Certainly, there are times in which the circumstances and the environment require for you to disguise yourself, and times in which it is effective to put on a show," the doctor continued, allowing Niou some leverage. "However, Masaharu-kun, if you cannot even fool yourself with your own performance, it becomes meaningless. If you are struggling to keep pretending who you are not, then it shows that you obviously do not want to be anyone besides yourself." He pushed his glasses up, straightening his posture. "Masaharu-kun, please entrust that role to me, if you will. I promise you, I will never become an imitation and you will never be forced to do something against your will, ever again."

One last shaky nod and then Niou broke out in gratitude, feeling his own heart push against his chest with a force so strong he thought he would die.

&&

Two days later, Niou was leaning back in another chair, a swivel one. He pushed his foot off the ground, spinning him around and around, staring at the ceiling until his brain was pressed against the inside of his skull and the walls ceased to be motionless. There were sounds of viola practice floating from downstairs, and Niou could barely remember the tune, although the person who was playing the song had been playing the same one for the past month that Niou had been in that room.

Yagyuu opened the door very carefully, balancing a tray with two cups of tea on it, then shut it very carefully. He very carefully placed one cup on the desk beside where Niou's elbow would be should Niou decide to stop spinning around, and then set the other one down very carefully on his bedside table, right next to all of his textbooks and notebooks. He sat down very carefully.

There was a silence as Niou tried to make the world stop spinning and Yagyuu flipped through pages in his notebook and then, a very careful, "Niou-kun."

Blinking rapidly, Niou responded with a grunt.

"Niou-kun, is it true that you are done with faking personalities?"

Not making any sort of effort to look at his brunette doubles partner, Niou kept staring at the ceiling, trying to remember when Yagyuu could've found out, and then realized that he didn't care, so he said, "What? I just invented that story on the spot to pull that quack's leg."

Very un-carefully, Yagyuu dropped his textbook on his tea, breaking the cup and spilling the light brown liquid everywhere. Seemingly unaware, he stuttered, "Th-then…!"

Niou leaned back in his chair, making direct eye contact with Yagyuu. Unknowingly, the gentleman walked very slowly towards Niou, as if being drawn in, and then sat right beside Niou's leg, still staring up at him with a half-shocked, half-awed expression. Taking off Yagyuu's glasses, Niou grinned, "Yagyuu, will you say my name for me?"

Red-faced and trembling, Yagyuu blurted out, "Petenshi Niou! My one and only trickster!"

Still grinning, Niou put on Yagyuu's glasses and stared out his window, enjoying himself very much. "Yagyuu," he started, speaking very carefully. "The word 'truth' is not in my dictionary."