RAINDROPS

A Prince of Tennis Fanfic

By: weirdcoffeeholic

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Author's Note: HAPPY 2008 EVERYONE:D So there, the fireworks were just beautiful. Lol. And people are making such a ruckus outside. :D Hope you guys had a wonderful New Year's celebration. May this year be more... productive than the last one. :)

Again, thank you for the nice reviews. :D drearymoments: Yeah, it's kind of hard. Lol. Back-to-the-drawing-board hard. :) But it's kind of fun as well. :D Eternal.Angel: Thanks for the advice. :D Actually, I wanted to do a slower update, but I have to finish this story before school starts since everything would be hectic again. :) I have one week more. :D (gulp) Again, thanks. :D

CHAPTER SIX

Perfect

Detective Inui pushed his black-rimmed glasses further up his nose. He then edged his face closer to the evidence bag that was held with gloved hands before his eyes by one of the assigned officers. Inside the Ziploc was an old-looking, brown, leather bound business planner. The detective began scribbling down his own notebook.

"Binder..." he thought aloud. "...Possibly two and a half years old, made of rattlesnake skin... Possibility of ownership is about 98.4 per—"

"Hey Inui!" Kawamura yelled from inside the dirty, rundown garage. He wasn't holding a baton but the detective could tell that he more pumped up than his normal self. "Put that thing down for a sec! I need you in here!"

Smoothly, he closed his notepad and tucked the pen safely in his breast pocket as he made his way from the parked police car and through the door. He immediately spotted Kawamura bent over the sink, looking for any clues. "What is it?" he asked the fussy officer.

"Don't give me that, Inui," he shot back as he straightened up and looked at the detective with inquiring eyes. "So, what do you think?" He waved a hand across the cramped area.

Inui swept the entire room with his analyzing gaze. Floor area is about 144 square feet, he thought. The room was originally a one-car garage — the walls were ghastly and unpainted with cracks creeping like veins from every direction, and even without the rain, the roof leaked, probably because of faulty plumbing. On the far left stood an improvised bed, possibly made out of spare wood. Beside it was a termite-eaten nightstand. There were no other appliances except a rusty lamp. A small table was a few feet away from it.

A couple of officers were checking the room for anything that might be of importance to the case. When they had discovered that the thief had bailed, Kawamura dismissed the others, leaving the investigative team behind to gather clues.

Kawamura looked at Inui for answers. "Well?" he asked the quiet detective with a hint of impatience.

"He's a smart one," Inui replied as he took out his loyal pen and notebook and started recording what was necessary. "He didn't leave any of his personal things behind, probably even disposed of it," he added. He knew that we could extract his fingerprint, even his DNA, from the smallest strand of hair or skin, Inui thought.

Running his hand through his face, the officer scanned the surroundings. "Well, yeah, we can tell that much," he said with remorse. "Looks like he left long before we got here."

Detective Inui narrowed his eyes that no one could see. "I told you we shouldn't have used the siren," he told Kawamura. "With that 124-decibel sound, everyone within a five-mile radius could hear us."

"Hey—!" Kawamura retorted.

"But, never mind that," Inui cut him short. "What we have to figure out is how we're going to get a hold of this guy." He began flipping through his notepad and tapping the end of his pen on his chin.

Kawamura exhaled, and then looked back at Inui. "And how are we going to go that?" he asked, not expecting the immediate and accurate answer the detective usually gave. And he was right.

Inui closed his notebook. "I have no idea."

"Prince..." she whispered.

Sakuno just stayed in her position, her arms around his neck, her face wet with unexplainable tears, buried in his chest. She like her whole body was about to give away when she heard about the report and how it was remarkably accurate. Thank God. Good thing I took the short cut, or else I wouldn't have seen him...

"I-I though they g-got to you—" Her voice was muffled against his shirt as she tightened her embrace. At this point she wasn't aware of what she was doing. All Sakuno knew was he was here and he wasn't hurt. "Thank G-god—"

Prince could hear every word she said. He just didn't understand — he didn't want to. There was only one thing he could think of to say. "Don't touch me."

Sakuno froze. What—? Oh, yeah, what am I doing? She pulled back, feeling a little embarrassed and looking at his eyes. She couldn't read the expression on his deadpan face. "I'm sorry," she said as wiped her tears on the jacket's sleeve. "I was just w-worried—"

Her sentence was cut short by a sudden movement from Prince. He had turned his back on him and was starting to walk in the opposite direction, towards a small pathway that she knew led to the train station. He didn't even say a word and she was left standing there, a little stunned. Maybe I came a little too strong on him—

"Prince, wait—!" Sakuno caught up with him and was now walking by his side. She took a good look at his face but it remained emotionless. "Where're you going?" she asked with worry. Where on earth is he going to live now—? "The city's this way—" She tried to grab his wrist but he pulled it out of her fingers.

"Get out of my sight. You're an eyesore," he told her head-on as he continued to look straight forward.

Sakuno stopped in her tracks. She was beyond flabbergasted. What the— "What's your deal?" she asked him as he maintained his pace. Her mood swung from relief to rage. Who does this guy think he is? "What did I ever do to you?"

Prince was the one who stopped now. Sakuno heard him jeer. He didn't even bother turning around. "I think I should be the one asking you that, miss," he shot back. The last word curled out of his tongue mockingly.

"What?" she said aloud. Sakuno was more confused than ever. What's he trying to say? "Look, I don't know what happened with the police but I don't think you should be taking it out on me—"

"You have guts to say that." Prince slipped his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, back still on her. He was getting tired of all the talking.

Sakuno's eyes were wet with tears again, but of a different meaning. Whatever it was he wanted to say, she wished he would just say it to her face. We haven't known each other that long but I can see something's not right here. "And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked, clenching her fists in an attempt to regain control over herself.

Prince turned around. His piecing, yellow eyes fell on hers. It had an odd glint that Sakuno found very menacing. She could tell he was furious about something or someone. He then took a few steps towards her, making Sakuno want to back up instinctively with fear. She even anticipated him to draw out a knife of a gun.

But he didn't. Prince stopped when he was just a few inches away from Sakuno and closed in on her ear. His voice was low and dangerous. It was the same tone he had used on her that rainy night they first met. "Don't act dumb," he whispered, his breath was warm against her earlobe, but it froze her insides like winter air. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

A chill shot up her spine. What—? she thought, alarmed. What did I do?

"This is twice I've lost everything," he said with resentment, his voice slightly shaking against her ear. "And now you're trying to wash your hands."

That was when it hit her. It was a hard, solid blow to the head. Disbelief spread across Sakuno's face as she pulled away and took steps back. Incredulously, she looked at him. Her lips shook with anger as she spoke, the sudden realization sinking into her. Bastard. "You actually think I ran to them?"

Prince snorted with disgust. "Took you long enough," he said, his gaze betraying that of sheer loathing. "Or are you still playing games with me, miss?" His voice was as poisonous as snake venom.

You asshole. "I don't believe it," she spat, nails digging into her palms painfully. Sakuno didn't care. She could barely feel it over the emotions spurring inside her being. "I gave you my word, you idiot! What kind of lowlife person do you think I am?" Tears started falling down face again.

Prince was taken by surprise — his eyes showed it. He watched the outraged woman crying in front of him and knew instantly that he had made a big mistake. It felt like the ground under his feet crumbled and fell away. Her eyes were clouded with tears but that didn't impair his vision of seeing through other people's true intentions.

And from what he can see is pure honesty and furious disbelief. At that moment, he desperately wanted to withdraw everything that came out of his mouth. Even when he knew he couldn't. He had said it to her anyway.

"I came here a-all the way from the c-city just to look f-for you!" she said between sobs, her eyes bloodshot, her brown hair falling messily down her shoulders. Sakuno wiped her tears on the end of her sleeve. She was a little overreacting but she couldn't care less. "Do you have any idea w-what I went through ever s-since I met you—?"

Prince had no idea what was coming next. He barely even listened to the woman as she spilled her guts to him. But for some mysterious reason, he felt considerably lighter. There was small smile hiding behind his lips for the first time in days. He couldn't find the words to say. So she didn't—

"My ch-chances on becoming a-an Editor-in-Chief is at s-stake because I'm here—" Sakuno continued, looking miserable with every word. You're the biggest loser this side of town has ever seen. "—and I'm scared as shit to finish my p-promotional report on you b-because I know it w-would g-give you away!"

So she didn't work for the police, just the paper—

Sakuno stood up straight and brushed the rest of her tears with a hand. Apparently, she couldn't or didn't want to say anything else and looked down at her feet. She remained like this for a few more moments before fixing her gaze back at Prince. "What're you looking at?" Her voice still cracked. She then quickly turned her gaze away.

She looks cuter that way, Prince thought, looking at Sakuno with an illegible expression on his face. "You look really miserable, you know," he said plainly as he took a few steps closer to her.

"W-what—?" she began, feeling her ebbing anger returning, but she was cut short. Sakuno nearly gasped for air, too surprised to react.

Prince closed in and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He could feel the warmth of her soft body as he tightened the embrace, resting his cheek against hers. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't even know why. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her neck, fists clenched.

Sakuno blushed, her hear beating faster but soon slowing down to its normal pace as her body adjusted to his. This feels nice. Hesitantly, she lifted her own arms and encircled them around his body. She then buried herself into his shoulder, getting lost in his presence. Butterflies were pleasantly fluttering in her stomach. Sakuno felt a sense of security — like nothing bad would ever happen to her — if she was in his arms like this.

He's perfect.

He was a criminal, she knew. And he was the only thing keeping her from the one thing she ever wanted — the only thing she ever felt she needed to complete her life. But that seem trivial as she stood there in the most breathtaking embrace she had ever gotten. For now, she chose not to think about the inevitable consequences. It would ruin the beautiful moment.

"It's okay," she said.

"You called for me, Mr. Echizen."

Nanjirou quickly threw what he was reading out the window in panic. He watched it as it flapped against the wind and hit the grass outside his office. Damn it. I'll just ask Nanako to get it for me. He faced his chair towards the man standing in front of his table and cleared out his throat. "Yes, I did, Mr. Fuji," he answered, attempting to look calm.

Fuji's eyes were perpetually closed but his lips were always pressed in a smile. His gray suit was otherwise very dull. "What is it that you need for me to do?" he asked in his very feminine tone.

Nanjirou placed his elbow on the desk and propped his chin on his hand. He pursed his lips in a very childish manner. "I want you to cancel all our contracts with that big-headed tennis player from Germany," he said.

Brows furrowed, his adviser asked unsurely, "Mr. Arnold Ignashov, sir?"

He nodded with a wide grin.

"But, why sir?" asked Fuji, taking out his Blueberry and noting what Nanjiro had ordered him. "Our tennis racket sales have gone up since he became our official model and advertiser—"

"I don't care," Nanjirou cut him short as he tapped his fingers on the untidy desk of his. He's a bastard. "I think we should start taking in models from our very own Japan. Just because he's German doesn't mean he's better."

Fuji beamed. "Actually, that's a great idea, Mr. Echizen. I'll get on to it right away." he agreed. "Oh, and also, your wife would like me to ask you what you wanted for dinner."

Nanjirou raised an eyebrow. It was weird having his business adviser telling him what his wife wanted to say. He shrugged mentally. "Tell Rinko I'll eat anything she cooks," he said dismissively, waving a hand at Fuji. "You may go now."

His adviser gave a low bow before disappearing behind the double doors, leaving Nanjirou behind with his thoughts. And his FHM magazines. Damn, I almost forgot. He pressed the button on the receiver at the corner of his worktable. "Nanako?" he spoke to it.

"Yes," she replied instantly. "I got your magazine," she said, already knowing what Nanjiro was looking for. "I just got home from a meeting and saw it lying on the lawn."

His shoulders sagged with relief. "Arigatou, Nanako-chan. Gomen-nasai," he said. "Please don't tell Rinko. She'll have my head for this again."

"Daijoubu, Uncle," Nanako said. "Betsuni."

Nanjirou hung up and sat back on his tall, rotating office chair and placed his hands behind his head coolly. Almost immediately, his phone rang, shattering the silence. Can't a guy get a little peace and quiet—? He grabbed the racket-making appliance and answered the call.

"This is Nanjirou Echizen," he said a little forcefully than he had intended. Please let it not be that German guy. Damn this thing for not having a caller ID—

There was a hiss from the other line. He recognized it in an instant.

"Ah, Viper," Nanjirou said, his voice imperturbable. "I thought you took off," he added jokingly. But the Viper didn't seem to get it. He skipped to the vital matter. "Where are you?"

A couple of moments passed before the man on the line replied. "I'm in the L.A. County, twenty miles from downtown," he said, probably estimating his location.

Nanjirou closed his eyes, feeling a little sleepy. Los Angeles, huh? "Okay," he confirmed. "And what have you got for me? Leads? Sightings?"

The reception was murky. The Viper was probably somewhere with strong winds. He could barely make out what he was saying. "I've found him," he said.

Nanjirou opened his eyes. He was now gazing at the ceiling. A grin spread across his lips. Bingo. "There's a problem, is there?" he assumed, judging from the man's tone of voice.

"There's a girl," the Viper said.

The CEO nearly jumped out of his seat in delight. Nanjirou sat up straight, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. "Hontou?" he asked like how a little boy would ask his mother about a birthday present. His mischievousness returned to get the best of him. "What's she like? Blonde, brunette? Tall or short? Is she pretty? Do they look good together? Tell me!" he insisted.

The Viper was silent for a couple more seconds. It was like he was trying to find the right response. "That's beside the point, Nanjirou," he said seriously.

Nanjirou raised his eyebrow again, impishness ebbing away. "What's wrong?" he asked, not knowing what the Viper had to say. "Can't you just take him in? It's fine if he brings home a chick—"

"That's the thing," the Viper said, his voice betraying uncertainty. "I don't think taking him back in would be that easy this time."

Eyebrow further shooting upward, the CEO pressed on. "What is it?" he asked as he sensed that he shouldn't take this matter as lightly as he had planned.

"Ryoma doesn't seem to remember anything, Nanjirou."

Author's note: Ahem. I am at a loss for words. I think I might've written too much. Lol. Kidding. Anyway, hope you like it. I'm getting a lot of hits on this story so I'm kind of inspired. THANK YOU! (hug) :D Oh, and I just couldn't resist not putting in Kaidoh in this little story of mine. His character's just so adorable (in a puppy dog sense, not in a cutie/hottie way, might I add). So there. Forgive me for the typos. :D Coming up: Chapter seven – Betrayal.