(A.N: As always, Read, review and enjoy. This is the last chapter before the epilogue.)

Chapter Eleven – The Last

Ryoma groaned as he leaned on the fence, watching rallies go back and forth, back and forth. Tezuka stood beside him like a king observing his men. With a defeated sigh, Ryoma slid down the fence and sat down, well aware he wasn't going to be allowed to train. Running laps was pushing it. Tezuka, Ryuuzaki-sensei and Oishi had all made him sit out of practice when he was overexerting himself then.

"Buchou-"

"Echizen, you're still getting better from being sick. Don't push yourself too much," Tezuka repeated for the umpteenth time. Ryoma frowned, bring his knees into his chest as he mumbled. He was beginning to dislike his team even more. Everybody knew tennis was Ryoma's life, but no one would let him play.

Tezuka walked over to some of the other courts, instructing the non-regulars on their next movements. Ryoma closed his eyes and tilted his head back in frustration. He could feel the energy flowing through his veins and he was being held down, like a caged animal.

"E-excuse me, Ryoma-kun," Kachirou's nervous voice asked, "Are you alright?"

Ryoma opened his eyes and slowly looked at Kachirou. "I'm fine," he growled. The sudden closeness of a human took him off guard. Ryoma took a deep breath, only inhaling more of the scent he was avoiding.

Ryoma closed his eyes, hiding what he knew would soon turn a cold red. His breath hitched, his entire body beginning to respond to the scent. Ryoma tried to make it look like he was watching the regulars play, but he wasn't at all. He felt his stomach churn again, just like it had before, and the lack of blood in his systems catch up to him.

"Oh, okay," Kachirou said quietly before he walked off to join the other first years for drills.

Ryoma brought his knees in closer, his hands gripping them as if they would betray him if he didn't. He rested his head on his knees, choking back the disgruntled sob that begged to come out of his throat. The energy he wanted to use for tennis became his enemy, it begging to be let free. He was beginning to dislike the fact he had disagreed to intake any more blood, at least not until he knew he couldn't stand the need anymore. Ryoma hissed in pain as he held his head.

"Ryoma," a gentle voice said. A gentle hand brushed through Ryoma's hair comfortingly. "Are you alright?"

Ryoma was getting very sick of people asking if he was alright. Did he look alright? Well, he was hoping he looked alright, but he knew otherwise.

He clenched his jaw. "I'm fine," he said.

Syuusuke pulled up Ryoma's chin, inspecting his face like a doctor. "You look sick still," Syuusuke commented. Ryoma opened his eyes to look into Syuusuke's. They were gentle and filled with concern for once. Ryoma hissed in pain and closed his eyes again at the sounds of screaming.

Syuusuke laughed. "It's only fangirls," he chuckled. "Come on. Let's get you somewhere to cool off a bit."

Syuusuke held one of Ryoma's hands and supported him with the other. Ryoma got up slowly, refusing to look in the direction of the others. He knew they were staring. It didn't take a genius to figure that out. Ryoma shivered as a cool breeze swept through the courts. There was more screams, this time girls loosing papers and holding their skirts in the wind.

Syuusuke gave a small smile to Ryoma, hoping Ryoma would cheer up. Ryoma opened his eyes to look at Syuusuke. "I'm going away after school today," Syuusuke said, finally.

"With... Yukimura and Monkey King, right?" Ryoma responded.

Syuusuke smirked at Atobe's nickname. "Yeah. I don't really have a choice."

Ryoma sat down, the secluded place away from any humans. It was easier to concentrate without focusing on staying in control. He tugged on his hat a little too hard, the hat falling onto his face. Syuusuke chuckled. "You better not do that during a match while I'm gone," Syuusuke chuckled, half-heartedly. He really didn't want to leave. "You'll give the other player an advantage."

"Che," Ryoma grunted, rather nonchalant as usual. "They'd need one."

Syuusuke chuckled again. Ryoma would be the only person to insist the other player would need a handicap. No wonder people called him an arrogant, cocky brat.

"Saa, we'll have to see. When I get back, we'll try that, shall we?" Syuusuke teased. Ryoma frowned. Syuusuke knew that Ryoma did not mean the regulars. Ryoma grunted again, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"We still have to finish our match, remember?" Ryoma said. There was a certain glimmer in Ryoma's eyes that Syuusuke only saw when Ryoma was talking about tennis.

"Yes," Syuusuke said. "But you have to get better first. Maybe when I get back."

Ryoma sighed. "When you get back then."

Syuusuke sat down next to Ryoma. "You know, there is only a few weeks left of this year," Syuusuke pointed out, "then it's your birthday, then Christmas, and before you know it, I'll be in High School and you'll be a second year."

Ryoma looked at Syuusuke. "Ah, that's right." Ryoma didn't realise how fast the year had passed. To think that a bit under a year ago, Ryoma came to Japan where he met all of his friends and realised just what tennis meant to him. He had become a vampire, been bitten, attacked someone and learned so much from and about his friends. He called Japan home, even if he had lived in America for much longer.

Because Japan was where he belonged.

--

Syuusuke stood outside the Yukimura gates, the house even more traditional than his own. A canopy of Japanese flowers and vines went over the pathway, some small Japanese lanterns lighting the way. A lot of people thought the Fuji house was extravagant, but the Yukimura house was even more.

Seiichi sat out in the courtyard, reading a book. He was wrapped up in a black coat, a serene smile on his face. He looked rather relaxed and comfortable. His eyes didn't dart from his book even as Syuusuke came closer. Syuusuke stood with his bag slung over his shoulder; he had brought a few changes of clothes, a book or two, a new game Eiji had assured him was entertaining and a camera in case there was something interesting.

Seiichi turned the page with his delicate fingers. He didn't even look up at Syuusuke. "So you actually came," Syuusuke said. He sounded amused. "Keigo should be here in a minute or two. Make yourself comfortable, if you can."

Syuusuke sat in a chair across from Seiichi, pulling out his camera and going through his old photos. Seiichi chuckled. "You're more sick and sadistic than I thought," Seiichi said, "taking photos of the murdered, are we?"

Syuusuke growled silently. "No," he hissed. "I brought my camera because there may be something interesting."

Seiichi went back to his book, a smile on his face. Syuusuke sighed, no longer feeling up to checking through his camera. He took out the small game device and tried to turn it on. As much of a genius he was, he never really played video games. He had no idea how to even turn the small, silver thing on.

"Ore-sama has arrived," Keigo felt the need to announce. He stood in between Seiichi and Syuusuke, a chuckle arriving at his lips as he watched Syuusuke struggle with something just bigger than his hands. "Having trouble, are we?"

Seiichi smiled sincerely. "Ah, Keigo. You've arrived. Great! Now, as soon as my father is done with his meeting, we can get going," Seiichi said. His voice sounded abnormally bright.

"A meeting? With whom?" Atobe asked curiously. "My father was mentioning that there was a meeting on today with one or two of the Elders."

Seiichi nodded. "Yes, so it would seem. The Russian Valentin Andreev and his daughter Anna are here and a few of the immortals, Elizabeth Wilkinson and her family are as well. To be honest, Anna and Elizabeth's granddaughter do nothing but argue. They aren't on good terms at all."

"They have different values, maybe?" Atobe suggested.

Seiichi chuckled. "No, they just don't like each other. They insult each other more than pay attention to their parents/grandparents."

"Ah, you're all here. Are we ready to go?" Yasaharu asked as he walked outside. "I was just saying good bye to our guests.

The small group walked outside, two in a heated discussion about something important. A man held the woman's hand, looking rather uncomfortable in the situation. Another woman stood with a concerned smile as she tried to calm what they could only guess was her daughter, or sister more likely, down. The one being calmed down and another girl about here age continued throwing insults at each other.

Yasaharu sighed. "It was nice meeting up with you all. Until next time," he said, trying to bid them farewell.

The woman up front turned. She was a fair-skinned woman, like her entire family. "Oh, it was a pleasure. It was a shame we couldn't stay any longer. We'll see you again soon," she said, a smile plastered on her face. It looked more fake and creepy than the one Syuusuke usually wore.

"That's right," the man she was talking to, Valentin, said, "We must get going. Anna."

Anna, his daughter who was arguing with the other girl, didn't seem to notice. "Filthy whore."

"Daddy's little fucking princess," the other insulted. She seemed to sport a real potty mouth.

"Well, at least I have a father, Elaine!" Anna insulted back.

Elaine looked very hurt by that remark. The whole family looked like they had been stabbed. Elaine was now choking back tears. "That's not fucking fair! You're a sleazy little gold-digger who just uses her dad like he's some piece of shit."

"I'm going to kill you!"

"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down now, girls," the quiet woman tried but she was still upset from the father remark.

The man holding what the boys gathered was Elizabeth's hand shot the darkest glare they had ever seen. "Will you two shut the fucking hell up or I'll kill both of you myself," he spat viciously. From what they could tell, he was dead serious. He looked very ready to attack.

"Bartholomew, dear, that's not necessary," Elizabeth said.

Yasaharu turned to the boys, officially ignoring his visitors. They had obviously outstayed their welcome. "Shall we go?"

Seiichi looked at the girls then back at his father. "That would be a good idea."

"I'm really sorry about this," Elizabeth apologised. "You see, my son, Elaine's father, disappeared a while ago and she gets very over emotional about it."

Yasaharu looked at Elizabeth. "It's fine. Just get the two of them to control their mouths and I'll have no problem," Yasaharu finished off as he lead the boys away. "Until next time, good bye."

Syuusuke looked out at the town as the car roared to life. He was going to miss Tokyo in the week or so he'd be gone, but it had to be done. He'd back before he knew it and able to see Ryoma again.

Ryoma opened his door, the sound of cluttering catching him by surprise. His mother, who had come back to Japan for a few days for unknown reasons, was on the phone to what sounded like the principal of Seishun Gakuen. Ryoma stepped down the stairs quietly to see some boxes beginning to be stacked, notably full of old tennis magazines and videos.

"What's going on?" Ryoma asked and Nanjirou looked up at him. Nanjirou grabbed some empty boxes and threw them in Ryoma's direction.

"Change of plans, kid. The monk is coming back early, so we've gotta leave to go back to America tomorrow," Nanjirou explained. "Go pack you're things. We're leaving early in the morning."

"T-tomorrow?" Ryoma stuttered. He knew in the back of his mind he would be leaving in late March after school had finished for the year, not early December.

"Yeah," Nanjirou said. "You got a problem with that? Your mother is sorting out that your exams and homework be sent to America and you'll be home schooled until school starts up again."

Ryoma ran up to his room with the boxes in hand, unsure of what to do. He mindlessly put some of his stuff in the boxes, mainly his magazines and spare clothing. He looked at his desk and got up, the feeling of uncertainty filling his head.

The least he could do was write something to Syuusuke. Something to explain what happened. Ryoma sighed. He wished that he could have stayed. At least until Syuusuke came back. Just to see him one last time.

Well, hopefully not the last.

Ryoma began writing down his details for his things in America. His address, his home phone number, his e-mail he rarely checked, his mobile he conveniently left at home and never used. At the bottom, he explained why he was leaving, the realisation hitting even harder as he got to the bottom of the page and signed it off.

He was going to be alone. He knew no other vampires in America. He would have to fend for himself. Find a way to get blood by himself. Everything he hated. It was like moving out of home, but he still actually lived with his parents. Maybe his grandmother wouldn't think he was crazy, considering he thought she was crazy most of the time. Talking about spirit beings and blood thirsty creatures as if they existed. She was a herbalist, disliking most forms of medication for the side-effects they gave. She was the most pleasant woman he had ever met, but she was on the weird side. She gave him everything he wanted, spoiled him rotten.

Ryoma folded up the letter as he looked out the window his friends had climbed through so many times. He wrote a small message to Momo for when he came to get Ryoma in the morning. At least if Momo could explain that he was leaving for a reason and not by choice either.

He packed the rest of his things, trying to avoid the thought of living off of himself. The thought carried onto his dreams that night, tossing and turning restlessly. He woke several times, drenched in cold sweat.

When Ryoma finally got up in the morning, he showered and picked up the boxes. He felt the darkness of being alone gather up inside his head. Everything he had begun to avoid was going to chase him. Like a monster.

With a sigh, he got in the car and went to the airport. His flight was there before he even noticed. Everything was like a blur. His eyes were distant as he avoided everything. He hoped Nanako would remember to give the letters. She was good at remembering.

As the plane left, Ryoma felt his heart sink. His breathing hitched as he tried to relax. This was it. He was leaving Japan. Japan was his home. He belonged there. He wanted to jump out of his seat and shout at them to open the door, but he didn't. He just sat frozen still. He wanted to convince his parents to stay, but he didn't. He couldn't. His mouth refused to speak. Because Ryoma wasn't as strong as everyone pictured. He was a brilliant tennis player. He could show off and win easily against most opponents. A rather cocky person when it came to relationships with others. He'd say a completely polite sentence in an offensive manner and leave the other to wonder what he was on about.

But when faced with leaving everything and everyone he truly cared about behind, all he could do, and barely do at that, was breathe.

(A.N: That's the end. I think it's a little rushed, but I tried to make it work with what I have planned. There's an epilogue and a sequel I've been dying to get out! Yay!

Thanks for staying with Search for Blood for this long. It's a short chapter, but it's really meant to help lead into the sequel, so, I'll see you soon for the epilogue and the sequel, Full Moon.

Please, please review. Thank you.

Asami-chan.)