Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis and KHR and their characters are not my property, and I am not profiting in any way from this story.

Warnings: Implied shonen-ai and violence, if that's not your thing, please don't read, and don't complain about something you were warned about.

Author's Note: A gift prompt fill for the lovely Aventria, who wanted KHR Tenipuri crossover. Naturally, I then wrote something with TezRyo overtones. Probably more of an AU than a true crossover, but a lot of fun to write none-the-less. Unfortunately just a one-shot.

Rings and Boxes

By Sinnatious

Tezuka presses his hands together on his lap, trying to still the shaking. He must appear strong for them. He's pillar of the family – the boss that they rely on. His grandfather had lectured him on it time and time again.

After all these years, he still can't bring himself to accept it. It's so wrong. He's always sending them out to fight in his stead. Into that dangerous world filled with rings and boxes.

Tezuka longs for simpler times, when they just played tennis and chased childish dreams. Before Vongola and Millefiore brought their feud to Japan's shores. Before he suddenly found himself in charge of a crumbling yakuza group and dragging his closest friends into war.

He should never have made the alliance. He regrets it every day. He should have stuck to business dealings and remained neutral. But he'd been impressed by the young Vongola's honesty and kind-hearted nature. It made him want to believe in a gentler mafia, in a brighter future.

Now it's taking all of their resources just to survive.

The phone lights up. He answers it before it can even ring. "Inui?"

There's the dull roar of gunfire and explosions in the background, but they sound far away. "Tezuka. We got the information, but we were intercepted – we couldn't save the contact-"

They have the information. He regrets the loss of their informant, but at least he'd managed to deliver the data to Inui. "Any injuries?" Tezuka interrupts.

"Momoshiro sustained some damage, but he's walking. Everyone else is accounted for." He pauses. "Except for… you know."

"Still no word?"

"No, Tezuka. I'm sorry."

Tezuka closes his eyes. He didn't expect there to be any. There never is. He comes and goes as he pleases. "Very well. Return to base immediately. We'll decide what to do from there." The phone is swiftly replaced on its cradle – it dangerous to keep the line open for too long.

He regrets the alliance, but knows they couldn't really have avoided this war. It was Millefiore who killed his grandfather, after all.

There are several thumps in the hall. Tezuka pauses – he's just spoken with Inui, and he's over forty kilometres away still. Fuji has gone out of town to find somewhere safe to experiment with his new Mist box, and everyone else is backing up Inui.

He touches his index finger briefly, just to confirm the presence of the ring. It's probably just one of the staff, but there's no sense in being careless.

The door swings open, but caution is immediately forgotten when Tezuka spies the green-haired man leaning against the frame. His suit is torn and ragged, he looks about ready to keel over, but he's still clutching a case to his chest as though its presence alone is enough to keep him standing.

"Ryoma!" The word slips from his mouth unconsciously, and he's frozen in place. It's been weeks since he's seen his face. He nearly bites through his tongue at the sight of the crimson stains on the white shirt that have started seeping through to the jacket. "You're injured. Where have you-"

Ryoma ignores him and lurches into the room. He dumps the blood-spattered case on the mahogany desk and flips open the lid.

Tezuka briefly forgets his questions at the sight of what's inside.

Four B-class rings – an amazing haul in its own right, but his attention is drawn inexorably to the box in the centre. He can sense what it is without even touching it.

"Brought back a present for you," Ryoma rasps, a wobbly smirk on his lips.

"A sky-attribute box…" Tezuka has an A-class Sky ring – a rarity in itself – but Sky boxes are almost impossible to find. "This is what you disappeared for?" He remembers himself, and turns stern. "You should have told someone where you were going, if you needed backup-"

"I don't need backup," Ryoma interrupts. He slumps down into a seat – it's Tezuka's, but he doesn't show any sign of caring – and waves a hand airily. "The rings are Sun and Lightning. Kawamura-senpai and Eiji-senpai owe me burgers."

"What happened?" Tezuka asks. He doesn't expect an answer. He doesn't get one. "You need a doctor."

"Che, I patched myself up."

It's a terrible job. Tezuka keeps a roll of bandages in his desk for this very purpose. "Shirt off."

Ryoma flutters his eyelashes at him. "Buchou, are you sure that's really appropriate with your subordinates?"

Tezuka twitches. Fuji's been a bad influence on Ryoma. He never should have let them train together. "Echizen."

He rolls his eyes and shrugs out of his jacket, barely hiding a wince as he does so. "Back to last names again, huh?" he mumbles. He throws his shirt to the side.

The bandages are loose and sodden. Tezuka's mouth is set in a firm line as he unwinds them and checks the injury. A clean cut, probably from a sword. It doesn't look that deep, and it's already been disinfected.

Ryoma fiddles with the A-class Cloud ring on his finger as Tezuka silently replaces the bloodied bandages. The young yakuza boss feels anxious looking at it. He's read the reports about Vongola's Cloud guardian searching for rings and boxes. There aren't many with the Cloud attribute, and fewer still that will take on Hibari Kyouya, but Ryoma never backs down from a fight. Tezuka quietly dreads the day when Vongola's strongest guardian hears about their stash.

"You shouldn't take so many risks. You don't owe me anything. You don't even need to be a part of this."

Ryoma's eyes grow dark. "Millefiore killed my father too, you know."

Tezuka doesn't have a response for that. He considers Echizen Nanjiroh's death his fault too, but Ryoma rebuffs his apologies every time.

"You shouldn't be so careless. You're not invincible," he says quietly.

"Neither are you, Buchou."

Tezuka clenches his jaw. It takes all of his strength to keep his expression impassive as he clips the bandage firmly into place. They've had this argument before, and the result never changes. "You should still visit a doctor later."

A careless shrug. The light catches the bare shoulder, revealing another faded scar from another mission. Tezuka's fingers hover over it briefly, not quite touching the skin.

They stand there for a long moment, and the silence grows heavy with the unspoken words.

Tezuka awkwardly withdraws his hand. "Thank you. For the box and rings," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say.

Ryoma just smirks, then stifles a yawn. "It was no big deal." He rubs at his neck. "I'm going to sleep. No risk of you getting murdered now you've got a box, right?"

"I'll be fine. Headquarters is still secure."

Ryoma nods sleepily and shuffles from the room. Tezuka sits down heavily, eyes transfixed on the pile of bloody bandages on the desk.

He wants to keep Ryoma safe, but he doesn't know how. He'll always send him out again. He doesn't have a choice. Ryoma's the Cloud – he'll just go anyway.