Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis or any characters

Ryoma's POV

By the time I woke up, it was already 12:30. I couldn't believe that I slept that late. I groaned and got up, walking to the kitchen.

"Hey sleepy head." My mom smiled at me. I waved her off and went for the cookies in the cupboard.

"How's Alex?" I asked.

"She hasn't said a word since this morning." My mom said, worried.

"She still in her room?" I asked looking down the hall at her closed door.

"No. She's outside on the porch on the swing." I took the whole box of cookies with me and grabbed a blanket to go and join her.

"You know it's freezing out right?" I asked, handing her the blanket. She continued to stare at the deck and I sighed. "Are you alright?"

"No." She said quietly and my blood felt like it was froze in my entire body. So this was it, she was going to talk about the accident. "I feel so weak." She said her voice cracking.

"Why are you letting Leon get to you?" I asked. "He doesn't know anything."

"It's not Leon." She said with anger in her voice. I was taken aback for a minute at the sounds of it.

"What do you mean?" I asked carefully.

"I can't play 2 songs on the piano without freaking out." She almost shouted at me. I was so confused.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked softly.

"Yesterday when I ran away." She said crying. "I found a piano store and I played. That's why I freaked out this morning. I know it." I watched, stunned as the moisture from her breath created little clouds in front of her. I sat down and wrapped the blanket around her.

"You're not weak." I told her, trying to get across to her that she wasn't. It was normal the way she was acting considering what she went through.

"Why can't I just play one song?" She asked, sobbing. "Why is this so difficult?"

"It's o.k. that you can't play. After what happened, I don't think I would be able to play anymore either."

"Would you have quit tennis?" She asked me, looking at me with a tear streaked face.

"I don't know?" I said honestly. She took a piece of paper out of her back pocket and handed it to me. I unfolded it and stared at it for a minute, not really comprehending.

"It's a music competition. Next Friday. The lady at the store gave it to me." She wiped her tears and sucked up the sniffles, looking away into the distance. I stared at that sheet of paper in my hands, wanting to ask if she was going to enter or not, but not knowing how.

"Umm." Was all I could say.

"I thought about it. But I don't think I can after this morning." She said like she was reading my mind.

"This morning was just a hiccup. Don't let it bother you too much." I tried to comfort her.

"It's too late." She smiled sadly at me.

"Do you think you can avoid playing forever?" I asked as gentle as I could manage.

"You don't know what it does to me when I play." She said "The moment I play, it's relaxing and I feel at peace with the world, like I used to feel before the accident. But after I play, the guilt just eats at me until I can't handle it anymore." She wasn't looking at me, but I saw as she reached up to wipe the tears away.

"I remember that day so perfectly." I said, looking out past the road but not really seeing anything. "And I remember that he told you not to quit. He didn't understand, I know that, but he wanted you to continue playing." I urged her.

"I can't." She cried. "I can't even talk about it without crying."

"It's alright to cry. You're not weak for crying."

"But I feel like I am." She cried. "And I feel weak for running away from my dad, and I feel weak because I can't even play one lousy song on the piano without flipping out."

"The way that you're reacting to the accident is normal." I told her, trying to get my point across. "You're probably even dealing with it better than some other people would."

"Why do I feel all this?" She asked, no longer trying to hide the tears from me. "I want to talk about, I do. But I don't think I can bring myself to without going crazy."

"It's alright to not talk about it." I ran my fingers through my hair. "It's alright that you cry when you're reminded of it." She let out a sob and I held onto her while she cried. It wasn't like this morning when she had cried herself back to sleep with my mom, but just crying to let it all out. I got a lump in my throat and we just sat there together, her crying and me holding onto, her letting her know that she wasn't alone.

"Thank you." She whispered when she was done crying.

"For what?" I asked confused.

"For being so understanding. I promise you that I'm going to work harder and when I'm ready to talk about it, you'll be the first person I come to find." She looked me in the eyes and I saw no lies there, which made me so happy that I had to smile.

"Leon can go to hell." I told her softly and felt good when she laughed.

"Even though I may want him there now, I don't think he would do to well down there." We both laughed and Alex rested her head back on my shoulder and we sat there together, cuddled up under her blanket.

"You know." She whispered.

"Hmm." I said, as the November air blew around us soft but cold.

"Today wasn't such a bad birthday." I smiled to myself, glad that she was o.k.

"Happy Birthday." I whispered.

"Happy Birthday Alice." She whispered and we continued to sit there like that for a long time, not wanting to move because for once it looked like things might get better.

Leon's POV

I made another mini paper football and flicked it, trying to make it into the ashtray that was in the middle of the coffee table. I missed and started making another one. I had been sitting here doing this for 2 hours and by now the table was littered with mini paper footballs.

"Que faites-vous?" My sister asked me, coming in and sitting down next to me. I shrugged and continued what I was doing.

"I don't think I have seen you this upset since you came in 2nd place in that music competition behind Isaac." She said in French.

"That little prick didn't deserve to win." I said sourly at the memory.

"What's wrong big brother?" She asked, leaning on my arm and tickling it with her fingers.

"Nothing life or death." I said, flicking yet another one towards the ash tray and making it.

"You only do this when something is really bugging you." She pointed out.

"It really is bugging me, but I'll get over it." I told her, Ryoma's words were still ringing in my head from this morning.

She takes 2 steps forward and when she talks to you she ends up 5 feet back. Was that how it really went? I was just trying to help, but what good was I doing here?

"Monsieur." Our butler said coming into the large living room and looking at me. "Signore Tristan would like a word with you in his study."

"I'm coming. Thank you Maurice." I said, nodding. He made the slightest of bows to me and I started pushing all the paper into a large pile.

"Can I come to your recital tonight?" Aurore asked me, watching me as I wiped all the paper into the trash can and stood up to stretch.

"That's up to dad." I smiled at her. She could convince dad to give her anything she wanted.

"I know." She smiled back. "But I just want your permission." I shook my head and started to my dad's office, knocking on the door when I reached the room.

"Come in." Said a strong voice.

"You wanted to see me father?" I asked when I stepped through the door, closing it behind me.

"Yes Leon." My father said, going through some papers. "I wanted to make sure you got everything for tonight's recital ready."

"Yes Father. Everything is ready. My personal coach says that I'm going to be o.k. for tonight."

"Good." My father said, never really looking at me. "Tonight should go off without a hitch. Now for the music competition pre-lims next, I want to know what music you'll be playing and who you're going to use for an accompanist." I thought about it for a minute and was going to tell him who I wanted to help me out when something new came to my head, the only thing that could possibly help my situation.

"I'm not entering that contest." I told him. My dad finally looked at me.

"Excuse me?" He asked.

"You heard me." I said defiantly.

"And what are you going to be doing instead of music?" He asked. I could hear it underlining his words, he was laughing at me.

"I'm moving out." I told him soundly and clear.

"Don't be ridiculous." He actually laughed at me now. "And where are you going to come up with enough money to live on your own?"

"I have more than enough money for that."

"You've never lived a day on your own." My dad said, no longer laughing. "I put up with enough of your little run- off's over the years, like that bit that had you in America for a year. Now I think it's time that you saw what your potential is and started working on that."

"I don't need you to tell me my potential." I said carefully. "I get that enough from my teachers. Now please be my father and tell me that's o.k. that I do what I want."

"If I don't tell you, will that make you stay?" He asked.

"On the contrary." I said laughing at his arrogance. "I'm going with or without your permission. I'll see you at the recital tonight." I bowed and left the room going to mine to pack everything I could for what I was about to under-go. This was going to get rough, I already knew that much. So I was going to stick to my guns and no one was going to stop me.