DISCLAIMER: Fuji is not really showing up in this story, but he still wants to remind everyone that neither the Prince of Tennis nor the premise of this story belong to keyascribe . . .

WARNING: M for a couple of swearwords and some vague thoughtd about swimwear, I guess . . .

PAIRINGS: Kamio/Shinji, Tachibana/Atobe, An/Kirihara, seriously every doubles pair, ever.

A/N: I wish Shinji's sisters had names . . . .

Finding Shinji

Part Two

Swimwear, hair, a goodnight's sleep

As ravenous as Kamio felt after a day of tension, travel, emotion and tennis, he was having a hard time concentrating on the food in front of him. All he wanted to do was stare at Shinji. Shinji, who was real and alive and there, sitting across from him, long, artistic fingers picking up his burger or drink, those familiar bland dark eyes giving languid blinks, that familiar slight frown as his face tilted slightly to let newly bleached hair fall against his cheekbones.

The hair and the tan were the big differences, of course. Shinji was taller now, and a little less willowy, but so was Kamio, so that didn't really count. It was actually good there were a few differences, because it helped convince Kamio that Shinji was real – and even more importantly, perhaps, it helped separate him just a little from the boy who had been making appearances in Kamio's dreams for more years than he cared to count. Because seeing Shinji - Shinji's eyes, Shinji's face, Shinji's mouth - in front of him after so long was making it harder than Kamio had ever expected not to do something stupid.

And Kamio had just got Shinji back. He didn't want to lose him immediately by doing a stupid thing. Not now. So he tried very hard to stare at his food instead of Shinji, and wondered if Shinji was noticing that it wasn't working at all.

There was a slight bruise at the corner of his mouth where Kamio had hit him. Kamio felt guilty about that, in one way, although not in another because Shinji was right, he had totally deserved it.

"So," he said finally, picking at his food, "I guess I should have asked earlier, but is it okay for me to stay at your house tonight? I pretty much used up all my money getting here and, uh, didn't really plan much past finding you. Actually I didn't really plan much past hitting you, but . . . ."

"I'm surprised you only hit me one time," Shinji admitted, still apparently having no trouble eating, which Kamio thought was a little unfair. "If the situation were reversed, I probably would have hit you more. Or else I would have – "

"Have what?"

Shinji looked quickly away. "Nothing."

Ha! Kamio smirked in sudden triumph. "Shinji?"

"Aa?"

"You just put your fingers in the ketchup."

--

Kamio had always been grateful that Shinji's family liked him. Now they practically smothered him in their enthusiastic welcome. He had to go through scrutiny from Shinji's mother, who apparently approved of whatever the last three years had done, and was shocked at the difference those same three years had made in Shinji's youngest sister, the one not now already so astonishingly grown up that she was going to a private junior high boarding school in Kyoto this year.

"Aren't I pretty now?" she asked archly, twirling coyly for him.

"Weren't you always?" he grinned, playing along.

"But aren't I prettier?" she insisted primly.

"If I say yes, I might get in trouble with your mom for flirting."

She accepted the compliment gracefully and Kamio wondered again if all girls really were as adult and self-possessed as An-chan.

"But Shinji-nii's still prettier," she sighed pragmatically, and Kamio prudently turned a laugh into a cough – or maybe it was a cough into a laugh. "You should see all the girls who come to watch him at swim practice," she continued, eyeing him with an inscrutable expression. "He's really popular. Want to see a picture?"

Kamio suddenly found himself nervous at the expression in her formerly sweet eyes. "A picture of what?"

"Shinji-nii in his swim team uniform."

This time it was definitely a cough, if not a splutter. He had repeatedly promised himself to put off any and all personal revelations until later, when Shinji was safe and sound and secure in Tokyo, and while Kamio was reasonably sure of his willpower, he didn't need to be pushing the limit with pictures of swimwear. He was thus absurdly grateful to be saved by the very subject of their conversation, who entered the room with a plate of cookies from the kitchen and an askance look at his sister.

"Are you bothering Kamio already?" he asked suspiciously, eyeing her.

She shook her head blandly. Really, girls were fearsome creatures. "We were just talking about the girls at swim team," she said sweetly.

Shinji frowned. "They're really annoying. I don't know why so many of them want to waste all their time hanging out there every day. It's much worse than it was for tennis club, although that may be because Bandha High is so much bigger than Fudoumine. Anyway, let's eat these in my room. It's getting late and you didn't get much sleep last night, right?"

"Yeah, not really," Kamio admitted, waving goodnight to Shinji's disturbing little sister and following the other boy up the stairs. What with anticipation of the next day and having to get up early to make the dawn bus, which was the only one that would get him to Osaka in time for school to still be in session, he hadn't slept much at all. Actually, he hadn't really slept since he had first seen Shinji again, a fact which wasn't helping to make any of this less dreamlike.

"You can take a bath and I've got clothes you can borrow," Shinji continued as they went down the hallway, and it was so bizarrely like any other time one of them had randomly decidedly to stay at the other's house that for a minute Kamio's head spun. "It's a good thing we're still mostly the same size, so you can use my clothes, even if I'm taller now."

That last comment was said with a definite smirk present in the boy's voice and Kamio found himself both rolling his eyes and somehow oddly pleased that Shinji had noticed.

"Yeah what, like 2 cm?" he scoffed. "That's hardly a difference. Wait til you see how tall Ishida's gotten! Your hair has really gotten long, though," he added inconsequentially, watching the thick tail swing against Shinji's back in front of him.

The ponytail bounced a little as Shinji nodded. "At first I kept forgetting to cut it, and then my sisters begged me to keep it long. It makes it difficult to control when I'm swimming, but I let it loose when I'm not in the water and the girls aren't quite as loud that way."

Why did the conversation keep coming back to images of Shinji in his bathing suit? Kamio wondered in pained silence. Although privately he wasn't that sure that Shinji with loose hair, even if it did cover him up a bit, would be any less attractive than with it pulled back.

"This is my room," Shinji said, thankfully breaking Kamio away from his dangerous train of thought. "Anyway," he continued as they entered. "Hyoutei must be pretty bad, too, about that sort of thing. Fangirls, I mean."

Kamio sat down on the Shinji's bed, more out of habit than because he had looked around and noticed there weren't any other available seats, and fidgeted a little under the sidewise look Shinji had sent him. In fact, Kamio had dated off and on his first year at Hyoutei, which had calmed down most of the attention from girls for his part, but he didn't really want to get into the particular subject just yet.

"Ah, well, it can get pretty crazy," he admitted. "But Atobe-san always keeps things in hand. Loud, but in hand. They went after Tachibana-san for a while" – and Kamio, but he wasn't about to mention that – "but Atobe-san had a talk with them and made them stop. He's actually a pretty good guy about stuff like that. Tachibana-san – he's been fukubuchou the last two years - says he's been happy to have worked with him."

In fact, "buchou" wasn't all Atobe was to Tachibana, but Kamio figured he could wait before filling Shinji in on all the developments of the past years. Atobe had searched out Tachibana, that much was certain, and made sure to draw him into Hyoutei before the other schools could start headhunting, and Kamio was sincerely glad that things had worked out as they had.

Shinji nodded. "I saw Tachibana-san and An-chan for a moment when we were in Tokyo. I didn't know they were going to Hyoutei. I didn't know you were either."

"If you had known, would you have looked for me?" Kamio caught himself asking, then quickly shook his head. "Never mind, you don't have to answer. But yeah, I was the last person to think anyone of us – especially me! – would end up there. They're sort of a bizarre sometimes, especially about money stuff, but it's not as bad as I would have thought."

"It surprised me to see Tachibana-san and An-chan there," Shinji said quietly, "but I'm glad because it's a good school. It must be good for you, too, because you look good."

Kamio couldn't help the slight blush, which increased at Shinji's next comment. "Tachibana-san looked really happy, too. And An-chan looked really pretty."

"Yeah . . . ." Kamio decided to be clear from the start. If this was about second chances, then he wasn't going to mess things up. "You wouldn't believe it, but she's been dating that Kirihara from Rikkaidai for the past couple years."

Shinji looked at him in surprise. "You mean the one who hurt Tachibana-san's knee, and then everyone thought An-chan had pushed him down the stairs in revenge?"

"Crazy, isn't it?" Kamio grinned at the evident surprise Shinji's voice. It hadn't been often that he could catch the other boy so completely unaware. "But after he went through his big change of heart and become, uh, less evil, they bumped into each other, and I guess he apologized and things kind of went from there. Apparently when they decided to start going steady, he came up to Tachibana-san and asked him to hit him to make up for what he had done in the past or something."

"Tachibana-san wouldn't do something like that," Shinji objected, frowning.

"Of course not! So instead they played tennis and Tachibana-san left Akaya in the dust. Sort of how I did you today, but more exciting." Kamio paused to grin at Shinji's sour expression and continued. "So after that, all was forgiven and forgotten. Akaya's actually a pretty okay guy, usually, and when he's not An-chan can shut him up fast with just a look."

"Girls are scary that way," Shinji agreed with a slow nod. "But I thought you--?"

Kamio waved the question away with a mostly successful chuckle. "Ah, that, well, we tried dating a bit but it just – never took off. We're still really good friends, though. She's busy with the Hyoutei girl's tennis club. She was Singles 3 last year and they did really well!"

Shinji had tensed as Kamio talked; now he relaxed again and gave a slow happy smile. "Aa, that's good to hear."

"Speaking of An-chan-" Kamio was in far too much danger of just staring forever at that rare smile, or even worse reaching out and touching it, running a finger along those soft lips – "she saw you, too. In fact, she's the one who got the name of your school from the bus, so she knows I came to see you. I'd better call her before she goes crazy wondering what happened. Better call my parents, too. When they see you they'll probably forgive everything, but I might as well do a little damage control first."

"Tell An-chan and your parents that I–" Shinji hesitated, looking for the right words.

"Yeah, don't worry, I will," Kamio agreed, smiling. "Go take a bath first and I'll make arrangements for Tokyo. Can you really go tomorrow? I know I said that, but I guess it's sort of ridiculous now that I think about it. I mean, you have to pack and stuff, right?"

Shinji sent a quick look around the room. "All I really need is some clothes and things. My parents can send anything else. I can mail the swim team and some other people, but nobody will much care."

"Shinji—" Kamio's voice was warning. "Don't leave anyone in the lurch like you did us."

Shinji quickly shook his head, not meeting Kamio's eyes. "I won't. There's really not anyone who will really care, but I'll tell everyone who would want to know."

"Sounds like they'll have to make an announcement to your legions of fans, too," Kamio added, smirking, just to see Shinji scowl.

"My little sister talks too much," he muttered. "I know the swimswuits are revealing, but that's not my fault. It's the way the sport works. People shouldn't make such a big deal out of it."

"Is it really that bad?" Kamio wondered, suddenly more curious than embarrassed to see the uniforms. "I mean, it's just swimsuits, isn't it?"

Shinji frowned and waved a hand toward a few loose photos on a corner of a shelf. "I don't really have many pictures around, but there are some group ones over there, I guess. You can look at those if you want."

An and parents momentarily forgotten, Kamio crossed over to the pictures as Shinji left the room, and picked up the thin stack of commemorative team photos. It looked like the team had been pretty successful, and although there were no medals displayed on Shinji's shelves, judging from a few of the photos it looked like Shinji had unsurprisingly excelled in this sport, too.

What caught Kamio's attention most, however, was that Shinji wasn't really smiling in any of the shots. He looked satisfied or determined in a few, but it was a far cry from that subtle enjoyment he had shown in Fudoumine's team photos (taken by An-chan, since there was no way they could afford an official photographer, and no real need anyhow since the whole group was only 7 people).

Kamio had gotten through nearly all of the photos without trouble, when he reached the final shot of Shinji, having probably just finished a race, with flushed cheeks and water dripping off him and oh yes, he could certainly understand why swim team was so popular with the fangirls, because he already knew Shinji was all lanky muscle and sleek lines, and could guess at how three years had tightened and toned those lines, but dammit, dressed like that there was no way to avoid it. As it was, he could only be supremely happy that Shinji himself wasn't in the room watching him blush at just how sensual the other boy looked. But still, in the picture Shinji wasn't smiling, and Kamio would rather have him in loose sweats but looking happy any day.

Which reminded him of An, and feeling renewed guilt over neglecting her when she must be worrying frantically, he hastily replaced the photos and dug out his cell to call her.

"Kamio-kun?" She answered on the first ring, and he cringed again at this evidence of her anticipation.

"An-chan!" And then the words burst forth. "It's okay! He's okay! It's all okay! It really is!" Kamio babbled, knowing he sounded like an idiot, but not being able to help himself.

On the other side of the line, An gave a strangled squeal of glee. "Really? Really really? How does he look? I mean really? Has he been eating properly? Is he coming back?"

Kamio was grinning so widely it hurt his face and he knew An could sense it. "Yeah, no, he looks good, really good. Ha, it's crazy how long his hair is but it's definitely Shinji, you know? He even mumbled a few times although he says he only did that cause of me so it was my fault and he doesn't usually, but it's – it's – him, An-chan! You can tell everyone, we're coming back on the bus tomorrow. He's transferring to Hyoutei and it's all going to work! It's really going to work!"

An made a choked noise on the other end of the phone and Kamio realized she was crying. Hell, he was halfway there himself. "Thank goodness," she whispered. "Finally. Oniichan, everyone, they'll be so happy."

Kamio had to fight from bouncing on the bed, pacing – racing – around, just doing something to demonstrate how he was feeling. Instead, he couldn't help laughing and An laughed with him.

He had just finished a second, much less celebratory and more groveling phone call to his parents, when Shinji walked in, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt and rubbing his damp hair with a towel.

And oh yes, Shinji in sweats was just fine . . . .

"Shinji! It's all settled, everyone will meet us at the bus station tomorro—" Kamio trailed off as he stared wide-eyed at his friend.

Shinji met his shocked gaze, then flicked away, embarrassed. "Ah, this . . . ." he muttered, lowering the towel. Touseled strands clung to his cheeks, fell wetly against his neck . . . and stopped at that achingly familiar length just above his shoulders.

Kamio stared. "Shinji! Hair – your hair – you -!"

Shinji shrugged, still looking a little diffident. "If I'm going to be playing tennis then long hair is too heavy. I know there are some players who still play with really long hair, but I don't want that kind of handicap. I wouldn't want short hair either, but this length works well. It might not look as good as the long hair, but aside from my sisters I don't think anyone really cares about that. Akira, you look a little strange. Are you okay? Was the long hair really better?"

Kamio bit his lip. For the first time since he had seen Shinji again, he felt absurdly close to crying. "No," he managed, voice a little shaky, "this is good. It's really good."

--

If he had been asked, Kamio would have laid bets that he would never be able to sleep that night, not with the rush of success still thrumming through his veins, and Shinji right there. But it had been two days of no sleep, and anticipation and panic and exultation and tennis, and he was half-gone the moment Shinji pulled the covers over them.

They were sleeping in the same bed because the room wasn't large enough for an extra futon, and they were sleeping in the same bed because that's what they had always done. And mostly, they were sleeping in the same bed because neither of them wanted to be far enough away from the other that this might all turn out to have been just a dream.

Kamio felt a little weak, but he shifted so his forehead was just barely touching Shinji's back, his hand just fingering a piece of Shinji's shirt. He wanted proof; no matter how tired he was, there was no way he could fall asleep without absolute proof that Shinji was still next to him.

Soft hair tickled his nose and Kamio flicked it sleepily away.

"You really do worry about my hair, don't you?" Shinji's sleepy voice floated across the darkness. "I never noticed it before, because your hair is so much prettier than mine, but I guess if you thought about your own hair that would make you narcissistic like Hyoutei's Atobe – although if I'm going to be going to Hyoutei I have to be more respectful of my senpai so I shouldn't say he's narcissistic. Even if I do say that, it doesn't mean he's not a good person or a good tennis player or anything, just that he thinks a lot about himself. That's natural enough."

Kamio leaned into Shinji's back, just enjoying the sound of Shinji's voice. He hadn't usually slept this way, so dangerously close (it might not even have been dangerous before, although now it certainly was), but Shinji didn't seem to mind. Maybe the other boy, too, was feeling the need to make sure all this was real. The heat from Shinji was soothing, something real and permanent; he tightened his hold on Shinji's shirt, and was more content than anything else when Shinji's hand crept back to fasten onto the hem of Kamio's own shirt as well.

"Shinji?" Kamio whispered. "It might be a little early to say, but: Okaeri."

"Tadaima."

And next part, they actually get to Tokyo.