RAINDROPS
A Prince of Tennis Fanfic
By: weirdcoffeeholic
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.
Author's Note: I have this odd way of finding my typos the very moment I publish a chapter. It's kind of annoying really because I have to re-update the chapters over and over again. Darn it, I hate typos even though I leave it all over my stories. Lol. :D Anyway, though I have the flow of the story all lined up, I make a few changes, that's why this chapter took me a little longer before I submitted it. Hope you'll enjoy this one. It's kind of boring compared with the last. Less action, more revelation. :D
CHAPTER NINE
Gone
Nanjirou Echizen whirled his chair around as a knock came from the double doors of his oval office. Instinctively, he tucked the latest issue of FHM under his desk, out of sight, before clearing his throat and adjusting his tie. He then laced his fingers on top of the cluttered desk.
He's a little early. "Come in," he said.
The door swung open as a man entered. Nanjirou looked at him from head to toe, noting the slightest difference in his appearance. He hadn't changed that much. Although losing the coat-and-blazer attire clearly made his aura a little uncommon.
A smirk tugged at the edge of Nanjirou's lips as the man stopped a few inches away from his desk and returned the gesture with a grin. He then leaned his hand on the desktop coolly.
"Oyaji," the man said, eyeing the older man. "Long time no see." He had on a brown, leather jacket, worn-out, destroyed jeans, and pair of combat boots. His hair was black, accentuated with natural green highlights; his eyes were a sharp yellow-brown. The man took a bite of the orange he held in one of his hand.
Nanjirou narrowed his eyes as he sneered. "Ryoga," he said with casual apathy as he leaned back onto his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "What brought you here?" he asked though he already knew the answer.
"Oh, you know," he said as he put the bitten fruit on the table and pocketed his hands. "I just decided to drop, that's all." He leered. The striking resemblance to Nanjiro was unmistakable. "I suddenly had a craving for Mom's cooking."
The man behind the desk made a derisive sound. "Yeah, that's why you took off," he said with nonchalance.
Ryoga's voice shifted in tone. "You know exactly why I'm here, Dad," he shot back, his face bearing no trace of emotion whatsoever.
Nanjiro looked at his older son. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You heard about that?" he asked him innocently, placing his feet up on his worktable.
"It's been all over the news for the past month," Ryoga said, impatient. His voice was low. "You'd think I'd recognize my brother's face if I saw it on print."
The CEO resumed his unruffled face. He chuckled. "He growing up to be just like you," he said sarcastically.
Ryoga didn't show any sign of guilt nor remorse. He even smiled. There was tension lingering in the air. "He still isn't back."
"I sent Viper out to look for him," he replied carelessly.
This seemed to have thrown his son a little off course. He snorted derisively as he picked up his orange again. "You sent the babysitter?" he asked with disbelief. He took another bite. "Oh, this is gonna be good. I haven't seen that loser in years..." he said through a full mouth.
"He was the only one who was willing enough to do it," Nanjirou said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and pouting.
Ryoga swallowed. "So?" he asked him with a slight curiosity. "What's the update?"
The older man grinned, all traces of childishness disappeared. "He's bringing him back now as we speak."
Sakuno pried her eyes open. It felt like their lids were glued together as her sight grew accustomed to the light. Every part of her felt heavy, like there was some invisible weight pinning her down on the bed, but she got up slowly with all the strength she could muster and forced herself into a sitting position.
Her head was throbbing painfully that she winced every beat or so. She blinked. The room was empty except for the bed, a nightstand, and a small sofa across from her. The air smelled sanitized, like disinfectant. Everything was white. It hit her that she was in a hospital.
What happened—?
Sakuno tried to put a hand to her head it gave another painful jolt but she stopped as soon as something tugged at the spot just below her knuckles. Something very sharp jabbed at her skin. She was hooked in an IV. The needle was almost completely out but the tip was still intact to her skin. It was painful.
"Ow—" She tried to remove the tape the fastened the small syringe to her hand.
The door a few feet away from her slowly swung open, light wedging across the floor. Sakuno turned her head to look at the woman who rushed immediately to her side and began fiddling with the mess she made.
"Oh dear, what happened?" she asked as she took off the medical tape and pulled out the needle. Apparently, she was a doctor who worked here. "You shouldn't have tried to take it out yourself, dear..." she told Sakuno, reaching out to the night table and taking out a cotton ball from a bottle labeled 'with isopropyl alcohol'. With a steady hand, she applied to the small puncture wound on the back of Sakuno's hand.
What's going on? She was at a loss for words. Why am I here—?
She winced as the cool liquid stung. When the doctor had removed the cotton, she took out another one from the same bottle and began spreading alcohol on her other hand. "It was a good thing I came to check on you," she said, not looking at Sakuno and focusing on the syringe. "This is going to hurt just a little bit."
The doctor posed the needle over the back of her hand at an angle and slowly plunged it into her skin. Sakuno cringed for the second time around, but the pain didn't last long. The physician then securely taped it into place. "There you go," she said finally. "And try not to mess that up again," she added as a joke. Her nameplate read 'Dr. Hanamura'.
Sakuno stared at the newly-placed syringe, trying to recall the last thing that had happened to her. But she couldn't. Frustration built up inside her. It was like cupping water in her hands or trying to remember a dream. The more she thought about it, the more she forgot.
But she felt that there was something missing, like a step that she had somehow overlooked. Damn it. Sakuno looked up at the doctor, her expression as blank as her mind.
"W-where am I?" she asked. "What happened t-to me?"
The doctor gave her a warm smile. "One of your friends found you in your apartment around lunch," she answered, checking the IV bottle on the stand. "Apparently, you didn't show up at work and your friend got worried. You passed out; you were lying on the floor when she came. It seems that you had too much to drink the night before."
Sakuno furrowed her eyebrows. "I d-did?" she asked doubtfully. I don't remember drinking— "What time is it?"
The other woman checked her wristwatch. "It's a quarter past seven in the evening," she said. "And I gotta get check on the little girl in the next room," she added, giving Sakuno another sweet smile. "Get some rest, Miss Ryuuzaki."
What the—I don't remember drinking at all—Scratch that, I don't remember anything, she thought, her free hand on her forehead. She then stared at the ceiling, her mind as empty as the room when the doctor had stepped out.
Like a video in slow motion, Sakuno tried to recall whatever it was she that she could. I was at work... Horio was hitting on me again... Then I left... I was in the Coffee Grinder, talking to Eiji... I was thinking about something... Or someone...? Then...
Then...
Her head pounded. It felt like something hit her hard on the head, making her fall back onto the pillow. Sakuno groaned but the pain subsided gradually.
What happened to me? Tears formed at the edge of her eyes as she covered her mouth with a shaking hand.
She felt like something was missing. And it didn't help when she couldn't remember what it was. No, it wasn't something — A part of her had been taken. She didn't know what that part was and who took it. All she knew was she felt incomplete. And that it was killing her inside out.
Sakuno cried.
"Oy, Chibisuke."
What—?
Prince woke up. His eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated, irises pale-gold. He could feel his body beaded with cold sweat as he lay, unmoving, on an unfamiliar bed. A groan escaped his lips as his vision tried to adjust to the surroundings. Someone was there. His senses were still rattled.
There were figures looming over him. They weren't threatening, but he knew something wasn't right. Where am I? Slowly, he propped his elbow on the soft mattress and helped himself to sit up. His eyes gradually cleared out as he saw the faces of the shadows around him. There were two.
Who are you people?
"You look like shit," a male voice said. There was a laugh from the same person.
Prince blinked. He focused on the one beside him. The man had black-green hair and cat-like, yellow eyes. It was as if he was looking in a mirror. The only difference was that a playful smirk was on his lips. His own face was blank.
He didn't know who the man was.
His impulse kicked in. Eyes wide open, he scrambled like a cornered prey towards the back of the bed, his back colliding against the wooden headboard. Prince could feel the rush of blood through his body as his breathing became short and shallow. Instinctively, his hand went to his right pocket where he kept his pocket knife.
It wasn't there. They had stripped him of everything except his pants.
The room was large and elaborately decorated. Everything was furnished down to the floor. It was foreign to his eyes. This was definitely not his place—
Shit.
He couldn't run; he didn't know where he was. And his muscles felt unexpectedly worn-out. But he needed to get out. He was cornered. His eyes darted around madly, his body shook. It was the police — they got to him — Where's the door—? I need to get out of here—
"Ryoma?"
Prince was stunned to hear a soft, female voice. He whirled his head around to look at the woman standing near the edge of his bed, just a few steps from the man. She had beautiful brown eyes and dark brown hair that was twisted into a bun behind her head. There were fine lines running through her face. She wore a simple business suit. And there was a tender and unseen aura emanating from her.
He felt a pang in his heart.
Ryoma?
Why did she call him that?
But something in the way she said it made his panic ebb away. It was as if he had known that familiar feminine ring all his life. It warmed his insides in a way that she only made him feel—
Suddenly, electrifying pain shot from back of his neck and through his head. He let out a yelp as he felt warm liquid thickly dripped down from his nostrils. He then heard the woman panicking. Prince grabbed a handful of the crisp, white sheets and applied pressure to his nose to block out the hurt he felt.
"Ryoma — Oh, my God," the woman stuttered and ran to sit down next to him. She placed her slender hands on either side of his face and tilted it up to take a better look. There was a red stain creeping on the covers in his hands. "Oh, my God—"
With the touch of her skin on his, the pain quickly subsided. Prince looked up to see the same pair of welcoming, concerned eyes. It felt like she hasn't seen her in a long time. There was something in her that reminded him of...
He let out another short scream as the pain quickly returned. The woman kissed his forehead in an attempt to ease it.
What's happening—?
"Whoa," the man in the leather jacket said. The grin was still there but there was a trace of confusion. He looked at Prince as if he had never seen anything like him. "What's your damage, man?"
"Ryoga!" the woman said. She was getting frantic. "Call the doctor!"
The man shrugged and disappeared through the open doorway.
Who is he?
Why am I here—?
Prince pressed the sheet harder against his face as though the pressure would make the pain go away. It came and went with every jab in his head. He closed his eyes and saw white light against his lids. It was like lightning.
A wave of realization hit him. It was stronger than the sting he was feeling. Numbness spread though him like wildfire. It was worse even.
It was emptiness.
Sakuno—
Where is she?
He wanted to ask but he couldn't. His jaws were locked and his face was pressed against the shoulder of the woman who took him into her warm embrace. She was whispering words of comfort to his ear, but he could barely hear it.
He let the blood-stained sheets fall from his clenched fist and on to the bed. Prince was shaking. He didn't know what to do. The pain was blocking him out. What if they did something to her? He could still recall her unconscious form as that man grabbed her and—
Sakuno—
"Don't worry," the woman said. "Everything's going to be alright, honey."
Prince opened his eyes.
And then he remembered.
"Mom."
"I'm impressed," Nanjirou said after his adviser had finished narrating his report. There was a look on his face that spelled 'Hurrah'. "Tell Viper I send by sincerest gratitude and deepest regard."
Fuji winced at the words that came out of the other man's mouth. It was as if he couldn't believe that Nanjirou was capable of such well-mannered tone. "Yes, I will, sir."
A playful spark was on the CEO's eyes. "So..." he began. "Where's the girl?"
His adviser's black went blank. "Excuse me sir?" he asked.
"I said 'Where's the girl?'" Nanjirou said with childish impatience, tapping his fingers on the desk.
Hesitantly, Fuji took out his Blueberry and peeked at it for second. He started reading from it. "It seems that Mr. Kaidoh shot her—"
"He did what?" Nanjirou interjected, spitting saliva everywhere. He stood up and slammed his palms on his desk. "That wasn't part of the—"
"—with Inui's formula," Fuji finished, cutting him short.
Nanjirou's face fell. "Oh," he said, slightly embarrassed as he sat down again. "I forget that that weird detective finally sold it to us." There was a short pause before he spoke again. "I'd bet my million-dollar estate that it knocked her out."
Fuji nodded as he focused his attention to his Blueberry. He then cleared out his throat. "According to his data, the formula 'guarantees two to three days memory lapse. It targets a specific area in the brain that contains recently-stored long-term memories within the latest forty-eight hours,'" Fuji read.
Eyebrow raised, Nanjiro tapped a finger on his chin. "I couldn't understand anything you said, Syuusuke." he told Fuji, who smile apologetically. "What does it mean?"
"It means that she won't be able to remember anything that happened to her in the past two or three days," Fuji explained, pocketing his loyal Blueberry. "And she won't be able to for a very long time."
Nanjirou smirked. "Poor girl," he whispered though he knew Fuji could hear it. "Well, it's for the best, I guess. Our chibi is getting married," he added teasingly
Fuji gave a moment's thought before he remembered. "Oh, yes," he said. "He was gone for so long that I barely recalled."
The man behind the desk smiled. "Yes, and this time we'll make sure he's not going to run away."
Author's Note
: Darn it, I don't know what's happening to me. Lol. I think it's just a lack of sleep. But, anyway, so there. I hope this chapter didn't sound dull compared with the last. This took me longer than expected because I kind of strayed from the original plot that I pre-wrote. Lol. :D I might extend the story until twelve chapters with a nice little epilogue to seal the deal. :D Forgive me for the typos and thank you so much for the kind reviews everyone:DP.S. I forgot to add the last part to this chapter. Please do read it first before you get on with the next. Sorry about that. :D