Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis
Ice
Chapter 4
Pain is an intricate emotion that few are able to grasp. Many flee from the merest insinuation of it. An unbearable feeling that some can conceal but none are able to get used to, pain rips through the flesh drawing blood in its wake. Those who play with pain know that it draws its victims in with its promise of relief from the brutal reality. It lures them in with an endless cycle of cuts, blood, and scars stopping only when the cut is cut too deep to be reversed.
Opening one eye, Ryoma found himself sprawled on the floor unable to get up. Sweat rolled down his pale face in droplets. His eyes were hazy with pain and his body felt as if every ounce of energy had been drained from it. The last assault of pain was so severe that his body forced itself to black out so it wouldn't have to feel anymore. Ryoma aimlessly wondered what his oyaji would say if he saw his haughty son now.
His father's name was like a slap that woke the boy up to the reality. Echizen shook his head to clear it of the fog and helped himself up with the edge of his dresser. A new rush of energy seemed to fill his body. Walking little by little out of his room on trembling legs, the boy, holding onto the wall for support, glanced around the room to see empty wine bottles littered across the coffee table left from his father's "festive" activities.
Kneeling down, the boy gathered the bottles and discarded them in the trashcan. Silent tears rolled down his slender face.
After the accident, his father had cared for nothing but relieving himself of his own sorrow. Leaving early in the morning, he spends his days in the bar with the presence of alcohol and the pleasure of the flesh. Drowning out his pain, Nanjiroh only came back late in the night when he was utterly consumed by alcohol.
He never stopped to see his son cleaning up after him with his own unshed tears. He never noticed Ryoma taking over all the household chores, holding back his own grief to be strong for the both of them. He never saw his little boy forced to grow up and face the harsh actuality at such a young age.
On his feet once more, Echizen started towards the kitchen ignoring the faint beginning of a dull pain spreading through his head. Chewing on a piece of bread, he turned on the faucet to hear the calm, monotonous sound of water covering up the lifeless silence of the house. While washing the leftover dishes that have been gathering for the past nights, Ryoma wonders about his conflict with the school. He finally decides on forging his oyaji's signature for a note. With his wasted father gone all day, he had learned to take care of all the paperwork from school.
"Itae," the boy abruptly hissed.
The pain in his head had increased to a maximum. It spread throughout his body and left him breathless while holding his head in his hands. The room spun around and around picking up momentum. Echizen shut his eyes securely willing it all to end. As his feet collapsed under him, he lost his balance and fell in what he felt was a slow motion manner. His body never came in contact with the ground.
A foreign pair of arms drew the boy into a warm embrace with a familiar scent. Ryoma clutched the stranger's jacket tightly as the throbbing reached its peak. Somehow the presence of the other provided the boy some relief. He hazily felt himself being carried in the stranger's arms and gently deposited on his bed.
As Fuji pulled away, Ryoma unconsciously gripped his shirt with more force. Sensing the boy's need, the senpai sat down on the bed next to him and held him close. The freshman relaxed and nestled deeper into Fuji's chest. The pain left the boy's head excruciatingly slowly taking a few hours or maybe just a few seconds. Opening his eyes faintly, he gazed at the fine-featured, and easy to look at face of his senpai.
"Why do you always arrive at times when I'm at my worst?" Echizen muttered looking up with confused golden eyes. A tint of red spread across his face as he realized their noses were almost touching.
"Maybe you should ask why you are always at your worst," Fuji answered with an awfully frustrating smile. Echizen's nerves were already frazzled and his patience quickly wore thin.
"Get away from me," the boy snapped tactlessly. Their close distance which was comforting now made him jumpy and uncomfortable.
"I would but I can't," replied Fuji with a hint of a smirk in his tone. Echizen followed his gaze to his hand which was still gripping the front of Fuji's jacket. Blushing even more, he pulled away abruptly muttering a small "gomen". The boy had a feeling today was going to be remarkable.
A/N: I kind of like this chapter. So what do you guys want to see happening. Maybe I'll get a good idea. REVIEW!