Welcome to 'Full Moon', the twisted sequel of 'The Search for Blood'. I don't live in America, so most of it is made up from what I know about it. So, Thomerson's creek may exist, but I made it up in this. That's it really. Read, review and enjoy, as always.

Chapter one – The Time

Tezuka Kunimitsu, former captain of Seishun Gakuen's tennis team, and currently in university, sat in his desk chair, tapping his ballpoint pen on the page. He had an article to write for the university's campus newsletter. But Tezuka had reached an impasse. He had nothing to write about the campus' café and library; he never used the school's extra facilities. Unlike most students who attended the same university, he lived close enough to still live in his parents' house and commute two stations to school, a total of ten minutes, or his father would insist on driving him there anyway. It didn't matter that Tezuka was in fact old enough to get a license. Not only that, his father purchased every book they had ever read or been interested in, always saying that one day, 'you might need that book and you're in trouble if you can't find it.'

Tezuka sighed just a little, his friends – the source of not only his joy but most of his misery - slowly had convinced him that some, note 'some' expression of emotion was good. On occasion, he had a rather small smile and, on very few occasions, some heard him laugh. You could hear his emotions in his tone of voice, too. You could tell when he was frustrated or angry, in pain or if he was upset – this he always denied. Eiji – he, Inui and Oishi attended the same university - was determined he saw Tezuka cry that day, but Tezuka had always said that he had done no such thing.

Tezuka stretched, the long hours of the night slowly taking its toll. If he wasn't a vampire, therefore needing very little sleep, he would have been just that: asleep. Article done or not.

The cause of Tezuka's pain was Oishi this time, persuading Tezuka to help him by writing an article for the newsletter the night before it was due. Generally, it was about politics, racism or technology, all of which he got a daily update at the dinner table.

Tezuka looked at what he had written and instantly scratched it out. He had no idea of what to write. Absolutely nothing. Not a single spark of inspiration.

Tezuka looked at his phone flashing at him. He had saved up for it through competitions – tennis, of course – and work. It came everywhere with him, his entire life programmed into the tiny machine.

"Hello?" Tezuka asked as he picked up the phone.

"Tezuka Kunimitsu?" the reply came as.

Tezuka sat back in his chair. "Yes, who is this?"

"Echizen Nanjirou."

Tezuka was a bit more than a little surprised. "How are you, Echizen-san?"

"Tired, I think. How are you?"

"A little annoyed with one of my friends, to be honest. How can I help you?" Tezuka asked, the chair rocking from side to side.

"Right to the point then. Rinko and I need the old Seigaku team's help," Nanjirou explained, "You see, the kid has practically died."

Tezuka stopped still. "I'm very sorry to hear that, Echizen-san," Tezuka apologised.

"No, no. Not like that. He is still alive," Nanjirou chuckled. "Ryoma's just very disconnected from everyone; he doesn't talk much – not unless he's forced to. He won't eat or sleep, and he's skin and bone, you see. He's always pale and it's very obvious he doesn't sleep. Even teachers at school are worried, considering he ignores the classes and is always at the top of class anyway, which means he would have to study. The only problem is, we never see him study anymore."

Tezuka was truly shocked. Surely this wasn't the same Echizen Ryoma who was once their freshman regular. "Do you know what may have caused this?" Tezuka asked, putting down the pen and bringing the swivel chair's movements to a halt.

"We think leaving Japan contributed," Nanjirou started, "but we know that it became a major problem when he was forced to watch his grandmother's murder. He was fourteen and still mostly that arrogant brat you knew him as. After that, he didn't utter a word for months, probably over a year. He always checked the Japanese tennis news though and his phone and email every day, but eventually, that stopped and he's become the pale, insomniac he is today."

Tezuka uncrossed his legs. "Well, how can we help?"

Nanjirou chuckled. "Well," he said, "Rinko and I discussed this and as soon as you're all available, we'll fly you over. Money really isn't an issue. Between Rinko being a lawyer and I a former tennis pro, money is very easy to come by."

Tezuka was curious just to how much Nanjirou had earned being a pro. "I will speak to them in the morning. One or two may be absent."

"Thank you, Tezuka. By the way, isn't it three in the morning in Japan right now?" Nanjirou pointed out.

Tezuka checked the time. "Fifteen minutes to four."

"I hope I didn't wake you up," Nanjirou apologised.

"It's okay," Tezuka said, "Oishi conned me into writing an article for the university newspaper about the library and café, both of which I don't use and it's due in the morning."

Nanjirou sounded like he was smiling. "Go into the café before school and buy a drink, comment on the service and libraries are all the same, aren't they? Say it's quiet and resourceful. Article done in ten minutes," Nanjirou said, "Rinko gets me to help since I do nothing all day. If I wasn't so lazy, I could be a good lawyer, actually."

Tezuka chuckled. From what he saw, Nanjirou was very lazy. "Thank you, Echizen-san."

"Please, call me Nanjirou. Oh, when you know, just call and everything will be ready, school exemptions and all," Nanjirou said, "and get some sleep."

Tezuka chuckled very quietly, though he was mostly serious. "Bye, Nanjirou. I'll call as soon as I know."

He put the phone on the desk, picking up his pen and beginning to write about the library. He smiled just a little. Why didn't he think of that?

--

Everything was silent, not the creak of the upstairs floor, nor the quiet ringing from Karupin's collar. Gently, rain hit the roof in a steady rhythm.

"Silence again," Nanjirou mumbled, turning the page of his wife's law magazine. Rinko had taken all of Nanjirou's adult magazines and shredded them, the fragments used in Karupin's litter box. "Great."

Nanjirou got up and the sound of the door. It was much too early for Ryoma to be home.

He walked quietly, leaving the house almost silent so his distressed wife could get some rest. He opened the front door.

"Hello?" he asked, his voice fairly quiet. The front door was near the master bedroom.

"Echizen-san," Tezuka greeted.

Nanjirou lightened, hope standing in his doorway. "Tezuka! It's Nanjirou. Call me Nanjirou," he said, "Come in. Rinko is asleep so be quiet, please."

The old regulars, those apparent anyway, followed, unsure of what to expect as they entered a sitting room very similar to a Japanese room. A low table with small cushions around the base to sit on, a blanket and cushion to sit on, and a small heater underneath to warm them up in the winter weather.

"Sit, sit," Nanjirou ushered. "I take it Tezuka told you everything."

They all nodded. "Poor O'chibi," Eiji commented, "where is he, anyway?"

Nanjirou smiled at Ryoma's old nickname. "He should be heading home from school soon, but sometimes he goes to Thomerson's creek."

Oishi smiled. "We'll wait. Is the school nearby?"

Nanjioru shrugged. "Ten minutes by car. It's the main school in the area. It's got a hopeless tennis team though. Usually they're disqualified a lot. Ryoma doesn't play much anymore, anyway. It's surprising he can, actually."

Momo frowned. "Echizen not playing tennis is hard to believe. I won't believe it. I can't believe it," Momo said.

"It does seem pretty unlikely," Taka muttered.

Inui pushed up his glasses. "Three percent chance," he rambled off, giving assorted statistics.

"It is weird. I always imagined he'd be a pro by now," a female voice spoke, catching Nanjirou by surprise.

"W-who are you? You're not from Seigaku, are you?" he asked.

"Ah, sorry," she smiled, "I'm Tachibana An. I'm from Fudomine. My brother was the captain and I came because I wanted to help."

Nanjirou smiled. "Your brother is the blonde one? Well, black when it's short, but blonde." An smiled. "That's him."

Kaidoh let out an instinctive low hiss, his friendship with Ryoma telling him to come but his acquaintances and such in America were begging him to go back to Japan. He had almost declined coming if he didn't hear everything Ryoma had been through.

The sounds of a car pulling up in the driveway were enough sign Ryoma was home. The front door opened, Ryoma balancing his extra school books in his frail arms.

"Tadaima," the quietest voice said.

"Ryoma, you're home!" Rinko said from upstairs, "but you're all wet. Didn't the car roof work? Is the switch broken?"

Ryoma dropped his school bag on the floor as he took off his shoes. "It's caught. I'll fix it when I can walk outside and see," he merely said quietly, his voice was almost a natural whisper.

Nanjirou smiled a little. "Ryoma, come here!" he called. He turned to the others. "He'll be a few minutes probably. Nothing is instant."

As Nanjirou said, Ryoma had gone to his room, sorted out his school books, found a towel and was drying his hair as he walked into the Japanese-style living room.

The eight were taken by surprise. He looked barely taller than a third year at junior high school/middle school yet to get his growth spurt. He was pale and his golden eyes weren't as bright as they used to be. His eyes harboured heavy bags, evidence of lack of sleep. It was surprising how his legs could even carry his weight, his entire body sickly thin.

Nanjirou looked at the regulars who were in shock; none of them had pictured Ryoma like this.

"O'chibi!" Eiji cried, the first to speak. He leaped over to Ryoma, pulling Ryoma into a tight embrace. "We missed you so much," he said.

Momo was the next to speak, putting a hand on Ryoma's head. "You're still short," Momo joked, "we needed you through the years. No one was as good a player as you."

Oishi smiled. "Those two will never change," he said, reminiscently.

Taka nodded. "They'll always be like that."

Ryoma pulled Eiji and Momo off with ease, used to being spontaneously attacked by seniors. Either that or they'd pretend they were his friends.

His eyes were cold as he walked off, completely ignoring them all. An shivered. "He's so cold," she murmured.

Nanjirou sighed. "I'm sorry," he apologised, "I told you he's completely different."

Tezuka folded his arms. "Very much so. It's understandable. I'm surprised he even let Eiji and Momo touch him."

Nanjirou smiled. "That's true. I'll see if I can get him to at least talk to you," Nanjirou said, standing and walking off, the regulars, plus An, sitting in silence.

"I wonder how Fuji would react," Eiji thought aloud.

--

Ryoma sighed, shifting through his mail to decide what he wanted to read first. Karupin jumped up on Ryoma's bed, curling up in a small ball. Ryoma sighed again, sitting down, pulling a case from his pocket. The absence of sleep had assisted in the deterioration of his eye sight. The incident from the Junior Nationals in Japan had changed to become only when he was over tired, but that was all of the time now.

He rubbed the glass clean, fogged up and wet from the rain while he tried to get the hard top on his car to close. He was seventeen now and taken complete advantage of his age. Having a car meant he could go anywhere he wanted, when he wanted. His dad never drove his old car anyway – his license had expired not long after Ryoma was born – and so Ryoma took it.

The glasses slid onto his face, Ryoma now being able to read what the letters were. Generally, they were tennis tournaments or notices, occasionally the odd fangirl who obviously didn't know what he looked like or were interested in dying insomniacs. The fangirl letters were instantly shredded, providing more kitty litter for Karupin.

"Ryoma," Nanjirou said from the doorway.

Ryoma paid no attention, reading through his letters. He had no interest in his old team.

"Ryoma," Nanjirou said again, "talk to them. They came all of this way for you."

Ryoma remained silent. He just read through his letters, making a decision if he should continue as he knew the point of it. Sponsors, coaches, teams; they all wanted him to play for them. He'd gotten so many offers, even international, that he had turned down. He'd gone to too many tennis clubs that didn't stand a chance. If Ryoma didn't fail all of the health examinations, he'd be a pro indefinitely.

Nanjirou sighed, grabbing Ryoma by the collar. "You need to stop moping around. It's been years now and you're killing yourself, really." Nanjirou growled, incredibly annoyed at his son, "You're ruining your friends, your family!"

Ryoma looked at Nanjirou with a cold glare. "What friends?" he asked, catching Nanjirou by surprise.

"What happened to them, Ryoma? Your American friends left you because you closed yourself off from the world and your Japanese friends are downstairs waiting."

Ryoma, looking rather annoyed by his father but barely phased by his old teammates sitting downstairs. "Che," he groaned, resuming with the letters.

Nanjirou looked at Ryoma, his hand dropping to his side. "I'll tell the seven boys and An-chan to go then. Maybe you'll wake up to yourself, over the next week or so," Nanjirou said, walking off.

"Seven?" Ryoma asked. He did not imagine an extra regular for that entire year.

"Tezuka, the worrying one, the quiet bit goes crazy when holding a racket one, the creepy one with glasses and notebook, the one who usually has a bandana on, the bouncy one and the loud one. I don't know their names."

Tezuka-buchou, Oishi-senpai, Kawamura-senpai, Inui-senpai, Kaidoh-senpai, Eiji-senpai and Momo-senpai, Ryoma's mind translated. "where's Syuusuke?"

Nanjirou, realising he had Ryoma's interest, smiled. He stole Ryoma's glasses so he couldn't read. It was like he was in a permanent sleepy gaze, but his other senses were as sharp as ever. Not even seniors could catch Ryoma by surprise at school.

Nanjirou grinned. "Come downstairs for a little while or I won't give them back," Nanjirou threatened.

Ryoma would have smirked, but he stared straight into his father's eyes. "I'll get my spare from Thomerson's creek."

Nanjirou smiled. "With what car? I've got sets of keys," Nanjirou replied with a chuckle in his words.

"Hot wire," Ryoma said as he folded his arms.

"Glasses."

Ryoma, admitting defeat, sat on his bed. "You'll give them back if I talk to them?" Ryoma clarified.

Nanjirou smiled. "Take them out for a little while and you might get a dry car on your return."

"Bribery is bad," Ryoma stated, walking out of the room. Nanjirou knew Ryoma. Bribes, when well chosen, could work on Ryoma. It was the main way the pair communicated now. Rinko claimed it was just a dirty trick, but there was no getting through to the pair.

Ryoma, having given up on his previous plan to ignore the regulars until they had left, walked into the Japanese-style room again.

"Senpai…" he spoke, the single word making him feeling slightly reminiscent. Of course, he caught the team's attention.

"Echizen," Tezuka's voice almost echoed, "it's good to see you again."

Ryoma nodded a little. "How… is… Japan?" Ryoma struggled to say. The person he talked to the most was his troublesome father and that was limited at best.

Oishi smiled, understanding as Ryoma struggled. "Mostly the same, really. It's been difficult winning tournaments without you," he smiled, "between Rikkai Dai, Hyotei and other teams. We fight for the top every year."

"Don't forget Shitenhouji. They're usually in the semifinals," An smiled. "Fudomine's been trying really hard. We're one of the top five or so."

Ryoma, who had not noticed An in the room, looked at her. "Ah, are the members the same?"

An grinned. "More or less," she shrugged.

Momo couldn't help but have a wide, childish grin on his face as he slung an arm over An's shoulders. "Yukimura – his royal 'highness' – sends his greetings. Akaya and Atobe said something, but I didn't listen," Momo said, "Yukimura is more of a royal pain in the a-"

"Momo."

"Neck," Momo smiled, a slight chuckle in his voice. Obviously, Oishi still didn't appreciate bad language if 'ass' counted.

Eiji bounced up and down. "So, you'll talk to us now, O'chibi?" Eiji asked. "Yay! Nya, let's go out somewhere."

Taka smiled. "Maybe some food places, tennis courts or anywhere would be nice. It's my first time overseas," he thought aloud.

Eiji bounced over to Taka. "Mine too. What about you, Oishi?"

Oishi smiled gently. "I went to London once. Oji-kun insists I've been to Canada too, but I must have been really little," Oishi said with a smile.

Momo looked more pumped than ever. "Yes! Let's go! Hamburger, hamburger!" Momo shouted, once again occupied with food.

The nine of them left in a group, Ryoma more by force, as Nanjirou smiled and waved. "Have fun!" he said as he watched them all go out the front door. Ryoma, who left the room last, shot a glance backwards as if he were in pain.

Rinko came up to her husband's side as she held his side. "I hope he gets better," she smiled as she kissed his cheek. She held onto him tightly, the sight of her son like he was only upsetting her. She missed the boy that Ryoma used to be. A tear rolled down her cheek as she rested her head on Nanjirou's shoulder. "I really do."

--

Please review! I hope you liked it. Tell me what you thought so far. =D

Asami-chann.

Beta'd copy posted: 3rd July 2009