AN: WOW! I haven't updated this in forever. I'm sorry guys, but I was getting nauseous on the roller coaster of life. I was dealing with some pretty severe depression for a while. But, one of my best friends pulled me out of it. Then school got in the way. But, hey, I got second place in my category for the regional Science Fair. Then the Chemistry AP Exam. Oh, and then I finally got into a relationship with the love of my life. ^.^ (Haha, I wonder what would happen if she saw I put that on my fanfic.)

But, why am I telling you my life story? Anyway, I'd like to thank all those who reviewed, favorited, alerted, and added this to a C2. You people are what kept this story alive in the months that I've been away. Thanks again.

Anyway, here's the next chapter. It's the longest by quite a bit, and I hope the quality is as high as, or higher than, expected. At first, I was going to get rid of the Japanese, but the dialogue just didn't work without it. There's just something about the Prince of Tennis that seems to require it.

So, here's Chapter Fourteen. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my emotions and imagination.

Chapter 14: Holding Strong

"Yukimura Seiichi of Rikkai Dai versus Momoshiro Takeshi of Seishun Gakuen. Would both players please step onto the court?"

Several raised eyebrows and turned heads met this announcement. They knew that those were the final two players, but the match-up still surprised them. This was bound to be seriously one-sided. What could the two captains be thinking, pairing Momo up with a player who was, realistically, way out of his league?

However, the spiky-haired junior was ecstatic. Finally, he had the chance to measure his skills against such overwhelming opposition. Nearly as jittery as Eiji on a sugar high, he all but ran to the court.

Yukimura, on the other hand, was calm, having expected this match. Why? He requested it. Although all of Seigaku's players were exceptionally talented, Momo was the only opponent that interested him. The third years would move on to high school, so there was no point in facing them in a middle school environment. Besides, it was more interesting to test the core of next year's team. This narrowed the choices down to three possibilities: Ryoma, Kaidoh, and Momo. The freshman was in the hospital, so he was out by default. Kaidoh's style really didn't suit singles tennis as it did more so for doubles. So, the final option was the boy now standing before him, Momoshiro.

This was not to say that Rikkai's captain did not really want to play against Momo. The younger boy's style truly intrigued him, as it did not follow the normal pattern of aspiring geniuses. Unlike Tezuka and Ryoma, who focused mainly on technique, the co-captain-to-be played with his muscles and his senses. This instinctual form was, in many ways, difficult to predict because actions were determined in the fractions of a second between shots. This differed greatly from Ryoma's supposedly "erratic" style of play when using Muga no Kyouchi. The latter case was only unpredictable because it utilized many different shots from many different origins.

"Ah, Momoshiro-kun, I finally get the chance to test your mettle," Yukimura half-whispered. "It will be interesting to see how you handle the pressure of a National-level singles match."

The junior stared for a moment. "Wait, do you mean this was planned from the beginning?"

"Well, actually, not really," the blue-haired boy replied, grinning in chagrin. "The original plan was for me to get my rematch with Echizen-kun, and crush the so-called 'Prince of Tennis.'"

"I-I see..." Momo replied, slightly put off by this revelation. However, he was quick to bounce back, eager to start what could, quite possibly, be the most intense match of his life. "Well, what are we wait for? I don't have all day to wait. I don't."

With the return of Momo's normal speech pattern, Yukimura smiled. "Of course. Tezuka, which of us will have the advantage of first serve?"

Blinking at the sudden attention, Seigaku's captain glanced at the line-up sheet in his hand. "The honor would be yours, Yukimura."

"Excellent." He bent down and picked up a stray tennis ball from the previous match. Because of the incredibly fast pace of the matches, the freshmen were unable to cope with their normal job, and, therefore, the players themselves were responsible for the excess balls.

Drawing his racket back, Yukimura performed a normal serve. With a short dash, Momo easily returned it. Ready to start a rally, the junior's eyes widened when he heard the tennis ball clang against the fence behind him.

"You'll have to do better than that to beat me, Momoshiro."

A knock brought Ryuuzaki Sumire's attention away from a few bits of forgotten paperwork. She sighed. The tennis coach had returned to her office not five minutes ago.

"Come in," she called, prepared to deal with yet another problem presented by her regulars. Her eyebrow rose at the sight of Itoshiko Akina.

"Itoshiko-san, how may I help you?" she began.

"Ryuuzaki-san, you may be wondering why I'm not currently with Echizen-kun. Well, his condition at the moment is what brought me here. I have come to a conclusion that can only be proved if I have access to a few of your students."

"Would you care to elaborate?" the elder woman questioned. She would be happy to help the doctor, but curiosity got the better of her.

"Of course. But, if I may, I'll do so by asking a question. What are the physical conditions, such as heartbeat, that are observed in a tennis player during a match?"

"Well, obviously his heartbeat would be rather high. He would be sweating, and, after a little while, begin to show signs of fatigue. And, although this is just a guess, his brain would be functioning more than normal due to the observations and split-second decisions that are a critical component of tennis. But, what does this have to do with your visit?"

"To put it simply, Echizen's condition matches your description exactly," he replied.

Sumire stared at the medical professional in incredulity. "But, you couldn't possibly be proposing that there's a correlation, could you?"

"I am. I have never seen a condition like Ryoma's, and, although I haven't seen such a thing proposed in any medical journals I've read, I believe there is almost certainly a link between his self-induced coma and tennis. And, if you don't mind, I'd like to do a few tests on some of your players."

"Of course, let me go grab a couple. I'd imagine you'd prefer freshmen, since their physiques are most similar to Ryoma's?

"Yes, they would do nicely. Thank you, Ryuuzaki-san."

Sumire approached the large group of spectators quietly. After watching Momo's match for a minute, she tapped the shoulders of the infamous freshmen trio. Katsuo and Kachirou turned normally, if slightly startled. Horio, on the other hand, would have screamed if she had not clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Okay, you three, I need you to follow me and help Itoshiko-san, Ryoma's doctor. Do you think you can handle that?"

"But we just came back from reporting another injury," Horio whined.

"Another? Seriously, what is wrong with these kids? It's just a practice session."

Ryuuzaki sighed. "It doesn't matter. Now, getting back to the matter at hand, can you three help the doctor with his hypothesis?"

A chorus of "Yes" reached her ears, and she turned. They reached her office. The doctor nodded to them in greeting, and walked to the door.

"As this is my first time on campus, I'd appreciate if you three took me to a court separate from the rest of the crowd I heard upon arrival. If they are too close, we could go off to a nearby tennis facility to perform the tests."

Speaking up for her intimidated freshmen, Sumire said, "The latter would be the case, then. We only have four courts, and one is being used. The nearest place would have to be the Nagano Sports Center. Let me give you the directions."

Quickly scrawling the words on a random scrap of paper, she handed it to the doctor.

"If you four need anything, please don't hesitate to call the school. They'll redirect you to me."

"Of course. I'd like to thank you again, Ryuuzaki-san."

And, with that, the four left the campus. Sumire returned to her chair, and rested her head in her hands. Why did everything have to happen to her tennis team?

Atobe, surprisingly, was having a wonderful time. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so surprising, considering his enormous wealth and relative fame. At the moment, he was being pampered by the Saeki matriarch. And, she was better at meeting his "needs" than many of his well-payed servants from home. He would have to get her to teach them some of her tricks.

"Atobe, you should visit more often. I don't get to mother people like this enough."

The corporate heir just continued perusing one of the many books available in the Saeki household. The one in his hands discussed the many different roles of major, multi-billion dollar corporations. And, as such, it used his family's business as its primary example. All of the topics were things covered by his father before the boy was ten, but it was a nice refresher course.

"Saeki-san, shouldn't you be preparing dinner?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Don't worry about that," she replied. "My son is working on it."

While these two made small talk, Oshitari was busy doing actual work. He sat in the kitchen, discussing various aspects of the Fuji issue with Saeki. As he collected answers, he added them to a growing list of facts.

"So, does Fuji usually get back at someone physically, as in beating said person?" the blue-haired boy asked.

"Does that seriously require my input?" Saeki asked with a raised eyebrow. Gaining an affirmative nod, he added, "No, he prefers to attack them in a subtle manner. Fuji attacks the mind first, the heart second, and the body afterward, if necessary. And, as of yet, it's never been necessary. Although, he usually beats the tar out of them, anyway."

Oshitari sighed. "Well, considering this involves Fuji, it would be stupid to think it would be easy."

Momoshiro knelt on one knee, panting from exertion. He couldn't believe it. In just six minutes, Yukimura had ripped his game open, and won five games without allowing a single point to mar his score. He looked over to the blue-haired captain and frowned.

Across the court, the senior coughed into a handkerchief. It sounded normal, but as he pulled it away, the spiky-haired junior spotted red. Blood. However, because of the angle in which Yukimura stood, only Momo saw the stain. He stared, rising to his feet to approach Tezuka. As if sensing his actions, Yukimura turned and made a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.

No, Momo, don't tell anyone. I don't want anyone to panic, especially my team.

But...You're...

I know, but I can handle it.

I thought you had surgery to fix that.

I did. But, the doctors told me there was a chance that it would return. They also said that it would be incurable if that happened. I honestly have no idea what I'm going to do about it, but I don't want the others to worry about me again.

But, they'll find out eventually. Then, they'll wonder why you didn't trust them with the information.

I'll deal with things as they come, Momoshiro, that's my prerogative.

Fine. But, if something happens during this match, I'm going to tell all of them.

...I suppose that's a suitable compromise. Now, let's continue the match.

"Momo," Tezuka snapped, "it's your serve. Please resume the match; Rikkai Dai has to get home sometime today."

Some of the Seigaku players chuckled. It was rare when their captain made a condescending comment, especially so when it came to regulars. Momo scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Haha, sure." He grabbed a tennis ball and served a shaky Bullet Serve. It went out.

"Fault."

He served again.

"Double fault."

Yukimura gave Momo a glare that clearly showed his intention to torture the junior if he didn't shape up immediately. The trickster shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was doing exactly what caused him to lose his position as a regular those many months ago. His play style was being determined by the appearance of his opponent; he was judging Yukimura because of his medical condition.

'Damn it. Why does everything always have to be so complicated?' Momo took a deep breath. His muscles relaxed slightly, and his troubled mind found peace. If he didn't play to full capacity, it would be an insult to the "Child of God." But, did he really want to put stress on him? After a moment of contemplation, the junior's mind was set. There was no going back. It was time to show everyone his true potential, regardless of his opponent's state.

Momo roared as he served again. The ball flew passed Yukimura's face. Rikkai's captain had, despite his own words, given into the idea that his opponent would go easy on him. It had been a depressing conclusion to come to, but there wasn't much one could do once a person's mind was set. To say the last serve pleased him would be an understatement. It appeared that Seigaku's trickster was finally ready to play.

The blue-haired boy shrugged off his jacket, tossing it to the bench. He turned his gaze toward Momo. With a smirk, he went into a stance not seen since the Nationals.

"Come, Momoshiro. Let's dance."

And dance they did. What had previously been a one-sided match became a flowing, elegant, high-speed tango. Yukimura played with all the skill that his title implied. Momo moved with his instincts before his thoughts even bothered to interrupt.

He jumped, preparing for his classic Dunk Smash. However, rather than waiting for the obvious, Yukimura rose to meet the younger boy. As Momo struck, rather than allowing gravity to propel the ball even faster, the blue-haired genius rotated his body and returned the shot, turning the smash to his favor. As such, the yellow projectile rocketed into the ground and bounced over the fence.

With a grin, Yukimura gently returned to Earth. Before turning back to the receiving line, he addressed the disillusioned boy before him.

"You're good, Momoshiro. But, are you good enough to beat the best? It's match point; time's running out."

They spiky-haired junior marched to the service line, the flame of determination in his eyes burning more brightly than ever before. He served for what could be the final time, and they moved.

A dash left and a cross-court shot.

A slide and a slice return.

A spin and a backhanded lob.

A jump and a smash.

It was just as Momo delivered his smash that Yukimura paused, coughing violently. He fell to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth. Clutching his head in agony, Rikkai's captain failed to notice the incoming tennis ball.

"Yukimura!"

With a burst of speed, Sanada barreled through the door, leaping forward with racket in hand. In a dazzling display of skill, he slid to a stop while knocking the ball aside. It even stayed within the court. Without missing a beat, Rikkai's second-in-command knelt beside his captain.

"Yukimura, can you hear me? Say something!"

"G-genichirou?" he replied, every word a struggle. As his head throbbed in blinding pain, his body was wracked with spasms. With a gasp of pain, Yukimura fell forward. Before he passed into the world of unconsciousness, his barely audible words drifted across the suddenly silent court.

"I'm sorry..."

Sanada stared at the boy in his arms. Panic coursed through every nerve and vein in his body. The first thing that hit was denial.

'No...No...NO! Not again. That horror was supposed to be behind us. Seiichi was going to lead us to the top in high school. We were going to be the best, together, as captain and team.'

Footsteps shook Rikkai's co-captain from his thoughts. He rose his gaze to reveal his captain's final partner, Momoshiro.

"Sanada...He...he didn't want to worry you guys," the junior began hesitantly.

"Wait...you mean he's been regressing for a while? He knew and never told us?"

Momo paused, not knowing what to say. "Yeah," he lamely replied.

"Why?" Sanada's voice nearly broke, raw emotion trying to break through his stoic facade. "Why would he hide this from us?"

"I think he wanted to avoid the tension and fear that tingled on the edge of your thoughts while he was in the hospital."

"What are you talking about?" Sanada barked. "We are Rikkai. We don't fear anything."

The spiky-haired boy sighed. "Then why are you clutching Yukimura so tightly?"

Sanada blinked. He glanced down at his hands. The knuckles were white, and they were trembling. Before he could respond, however, Tezuka stepped forward.

"You two can have this discussion later. Ryuuzaki-sensei is ready to take Yukimura to the hospital. Sanada, you can carry him. If you need help, Momoshiro will be more than willing to oblige. Now, follow me; the three of us will accompany Yukimura."

So authoritative was Tezuka's command that the other two followed without comment. The trio smoothly passed through the group of onlookers, the crowd parting with haste. The trip to the car was silent. Their pace was brisk, their gait that of true tennis players: powerful, elegant, and confident yet reserved.

As soon as they reached Coach Ryuuzaki's car, they piled in – Sanada and Momoshiro in the back, supporting Yukimura between them. Tezuka took the front seat, giving his coach a quick rundown of the events that led to the car ride. After he concluded, she shook her head in exasperation.

"When will you kids learn that tennis is a sport, a pastime that isn't important enough to lay down your life and future for?"

Sanada looked at her, highly affronted. "Tennis is more than a game. It is a lifestyle. To do anything less than one's best would be the highest insult imaginable."

Sumire gave the players a half-hearted smile. "The ideals of youth, by sheer definition, fade with age. Experience trumps aspiration every time."

Unsure what to think anymore, Momo looked out the car window, watching the cars and buildings rush by. His thoughts hopped around, touching upon the events of the past several days. He quietly sighed.

'What else could possibly go wrong?'

The other Seigaku regulars were taking the bus to the hospital. Fuji glared at the empty seat in front of him. His thoughts were on the result of the last match. Momoshiro had, once again, threatened the life of one of those he held dear. How long would the junior continue his onslaught on the Fuji considered more precious than life?

Well, he'd have none of it. Time was ticking down to the time that Fuji would exact his revenge. And an oh-so satisfactory revenge it would be.

Return after return, Ryoma fought to maintain his slim lead. Sure, he could have activated the Pinnacle of Perfection, but that was his last resort. Against an opponent that adapted as quickly as it did, pulling out all the stops at this point in the match would ensure his defeat.

Suddenly, he spotted his chance. Dashing to the front, Ryoma pulled his racket in, placing an enormous amount of backspin on the ball. By performing Tezuka's trademark shot yet again, he was making a gamble.

And it didn't pay off.

Before the ball even left Ryoma's racket, the shadow was at the net, preparing to slam it into the freshman's face. Instinct took over as he brought his racket up in the blink of an eye. But even that wasn't fast enough. The tennis ball smashed into Ryoma's face, knocking him off his feet. With a groan, he rolled over, ignoring the blood slowly flowing from his nose. No, what held his attention was the spinning, tipping sensation of the whiplash-induced vertigo.

Because his eyes were held tightly shut, Ryoma didn't see his surroundings flicker in and out of existence. Had he seen this, he would have known how important this match was to his overall well being.

The alarm for room the ICU room went off. Two doctors, as well as their entourage of nurses, rushed into the room, prepared for the worst. One of the doctors glanced at the vitals monitor, expecting erratic, potentially life-threatening signs. However, the Ryoma's current nurse grabbed his attention.

"Echizen's vitals aren't an issue at the moment," she began. "I was the one that set off the alarm. The reason is rather obvious. He is currently exhibiting epistaxis."

One of the doctors flew to Ryoma's side, inspecting his face. True to her word, his nose was bleeding. Quickly checking for possible causes, he looked back at his team.

"We should have this checked immediately." Directing his next instructions to the nurses, he continued. "Please wheel his bed and necessary IV equipment to Examination Room C14. We'll be performing a CT scan. Make sure Echizen-kun is ready by the time I arrive."

The nurses nodded, already moving toward their patient. The doctor turned to his subordinative doctor. "You may go help another doctor with a patient, but please be on standby. If we have to perform surgery, we'll be shorthanded with Itoshiko-san missing."

"Understood." The lower-level doctor swiftly left the room, his coat billowing behind him. The first doctor watched for a moment before following his team, which had already left with Ryoma. All the doctors on the fourth floor were also surgeons of varying proficiency. But that doesn't mean they were worse than the full-time surgeons. These men and women were required to be able to handle just about any issue their patients had. The fourth floor happened to house the patients that were viewed as more likely to need surgery.

Fifteen minutes later, the doctor, Sato Isao, was looking over the results of the CT scan. And, he was utterly baffled. There was no sign of any medical issue with Ryoma's head that would cause epistaxis. With a sigh, he thought back to his discussion with Itoshiko about their confusing patient.

"Itoshiko-san, with all due respect, I refuse believe that Echizen-kun is in this condition purely because he wants to be. There are no recorded cases of this in any of the archives I've looked over, and none of my contacts around the globe have heard of such an issue. The closest I've been found would be cases where individuals have passed out from emotional trauma. There are also cases in which the patient gives up the will to live and allows a disease to consume him. However, it is a huge jump in the medical field to go from that to a self-induced critical medical condition. I cannot, with good conscience, allow you to use this hypothesis as Echizen-kun's diagnosis."

Itoshiko gave the man an understanding look. "I agree, Sato-san, that this is a difficult theory to believe. It goes against everything that has ever been taught to a medical student, and inherently goes against the grain. Trust me when I say that I've looked for every other possible problem I can think of. But, there is no denying the similarities between Echizen-kun's condition and that of an athlete's in the middle of an intense game."

Sato sighed. He'd heard this argument several times, and couldn't disagree. It was true; the heart rate, the mental activity, even the sweating marked the signs of physical exertion. He, though, was still steadfast in his desire to avoid the current official diagnosis. Shaking his head, he was about to speak when Itoshiko spoke again.

"Sato-san, hear me out. I know that most in the medical field are content to stay within their comfort zone, and avoid facing the unknown. I, however, believe – no, I'm certain – that if we don't look forward, don't make advances in this realm of knowledge, that the field of medicine will become stagnant. We'll be unable to help those with new problems, because we'll be unable to face them."

"I agree."

"Please, Sato-san believe – wait, what?"

Sato chuckled. "I agree with what you've said. The only problem I have with this is using a hypothesis as a diagnosis. It is against my nature to give people information that is only speculation at best. Until we have some sort of true, non-circumstantial evidence that this theory is, indeed, the case, we cannot, as true medical professionals, tell others about this."

"Unfortunately, I've already notified Echizen-kun's family and team. They have probably already spread this information to others. In short, Sato-san, it is now out of our control. Since that was your one objection to this whole thing, I'm going to assume that you'll help me with my testing."

"Of course," Sato replied. "What would you have me do?"

"Stay. Take my place as Echizen-kun's head doctor while I go out and perform an experiment. I should be done before the day is out, so you'll only have to deal with the team for several hours. Is this acceptable to you?"

"It is. Now, Itoshiko-san, hurry and complete your tests. I truly want this whole situation to be over and done with. My one problem with being a doctor is dealing with the loved ones of a patient."

Itoshiko nodded. He rose and strode to the door. Before leaving, he turned back to Sato. "Take good care of Echizen-kun. Even unconscious, he's grown on me. Or, maybe I should say his team has grown on me."

Chuckling, Itoshiko left. Sato sat there for a while, thinking over the recent discussion. Then, shaking his head to get rid of any loose thoughts, he returned to his post, ready to help Ryoma at any time.

Maybe this recent development was tied to Itoshiko's theory. With a little deliberation, he picked up the phone by his right arm, and dialed a number, waiting for the other end to pick up. His questions would be answered soon.

The office telephone rang twice before the surprised secretary picked it up. Seishun Gakuen had recently decided to have a few faculty members in the office at all times to handle calls from concerned parents at night. This new secretary had held her position for about a month, and had performed her job admirably. Of course, that wasn't difficult, considering no one ever called. Although Seigaku had made several announcements about the new policy, students had failed to inform parents. Then again, the parents might not have any issues. Segaku had an exemplary record of parent, teacher, and student satisfaction rates.

"Seishun Gakuen. How may I help you?" the secretary questioned, saying exactly what she'd been taught to say.

"Hello, this is Sato Isao, one of Echizen Ryoma's doctors from the hospital. May I speak to Ryuuzaki-san?"

"Unfortunately, she's not here at the moment. I was just informed by a member of the tennis team that she was on her way to the hospital with a boy in critical condition."

"...Please tell me you're kidding," the voice replied, pleading evident in his words.

Feeling slightly guilty, she replied, "I wish I was, Sato-san."

"What is wrong with those tennis kids? This is the fifth tennis player to show up in the last week. I'm going to need to have a talk with Ryuuzaki-san."

Sighing, Sato decided to end his call. "Well, thank you for your help. Have a good day."

"You as well, Sato-san. Good-bye."

The secretary placed the phone back in its cradle. She stared at the phone for a while. 'Five? There really is something wrong with those kids.'

The ball rolled into the fence, barely making a sound. Even if it had, it wouldn't have been heard over the panting of the freshmen trio. They were wearing special equipment that relayed vitals and other important medical information to Itoshiko's laptop. Sensors were all over their bodies. Several were on their heads, more on their torsos, and a few on each limb.

Itoshiko looked on in slight disappointment. 'They've only been at it for twenty minutes, and they're already this tired. No wonder freshmen don't usually make it as regulars. Echizen-kun must be as good as I've heard.'

However, he couldn't deny that the information they were providing him was excellent. Breathing patterns, heart rate, sweat levels, temperature readings, and even brainwave activity. The last was the most difficult to obtain, but, with the special electrodes he'd been able to acquire, Itoshiko managed to even leap that hurdle. With enough information to get a good average, the doctor decided it was time to end the game. He also didn't want to risk damaging the equipment. It was ridiculously expensive.

"All right, you three, I've got what I need. You can take it easy now," he called out to the freshmen.

Horio sighed in relief, starting to sit down.

"Hold on, I need my equipment back, so come here. I'll remove the sensors, since they break pretty easily."

With a whine, Horio and the other two wobbled over to the doctor. After about five minutes of careful work, Itoshiko managed to take off the last sensor. Smiling at the boys before him, he tossed each a nice, chilled water bottle he'd brought in a cooler. Nodding their thanks, the freshmen trio fell backward, lying on the court, still breathing hard.

"Good job, guys. You helped me with something that may help Echizen-kun, and maybe even others that end up with a similar problem in the future."

Seeing little in terms of a response from the three, he indicated that they return to the car. On the way, his cell phone's ring tone went off. Quickly whipping it out, he answered, "Itoshiko Akina here."

As he listened to the person on the other end, his eyes widened, and the corners of his mouth kept turning downward. With a quick, "Thanks," he put his phone away, his pace increasing.

"Come on, you three, there's been another injury from that 'practice' session your team had."

Glancing at each other, the exhausted freshmen matched the doctor's stride.

Echizen Nanjiroh strode up the walkway to his home. He held a folder full of papers dealing with the entrepreneurship-based job he'd soon take up. A determined flare in his eyes told all who observed that Samurai Nanjiroh was back. No longer was he the perverted, pseudo-monk. Opening the door, he was suddenly assaulted by his wife's words.

"You! I've finally caught you in the act. Give me the magazine, or you'll suffer the consequences."

Nanjiroh looked at his wife fondly. She finally gotten past the depression she'd been dealing with for several days. Her will was strong, and she, too, had realized the need to make as much money as possible to cover the medical bills that would result from this disaster.

"Rinko-chan, calm down. I didn't go out to get another one of those ridiculous magazines. I went out to find a job."

Rinko stared in shock. Not only had her husband, who'd been lazy for the past several years, said he'd looked for a job, he'd referred to his precious as "ridiculous." Taking another look at her husband, her eyes widened in awe. The change was astounding. Before her was not her idiot husband. No, the Nanjiroh that stood in the doorway was the man she'd fallen in love with, a confidence, long gone, having returned to his features. He exuded strength and power.

This was Echizen Nanjiroh, the man who had something to protect. And, he'd give it his all to do so.

The regulars of Seigaku and Rikkai Dai were standing outside Examination Room C5. Yukimura was currently being tested in the first of many ways, a CT scan. Sanada paced back and forth, worry showing on his face. The rest of Rikkai all looked the worse for wear. The Seigaku members all stood to the side, worried, but not being able to feel the same emotions that Yukimura's team was going through for the second time.

Finally, having had enough, Sanada turned to his team. "Minna! We're going to go visit Kirihara. He's currently in room 137A." His team nodded in acceptance, getting to their feet. Well, everyone except Niou.

"Sanada-fukubuchou, I'll stay here in case there's word regarding Buchou."

"Of course. If there is any, come find us immediately." Niou nodded solemnly.

Tezuka turned to his team. "Minna, we'll go see Kawamura. He should be out of surgery by now."

"Hai, Tezuka," was the unanimous reply.

The large group of tennis players marched together to the elevators, then parted ways, Rikkai taking the one on the left, Seigaku the one on the right. Before boarding them, Sanada addressed Tezuka.

"Tezuka, we'll meet back in the lobby in an twenty minutes. Is that acceptable?"

"Indeed," Seigaku's captain agreed. With a nod, the two returned to their teams, who'd been holding the elevators open. The doors slid shut, and the teams went to find their missing members.

The Rikkai team approached the door to room 137A. Before entering, though, they were stopped by a nurse.

"Kirihara-kun is resting. I have to ask that you return later."

Sanada turned to the lady, before growling. "We will see our teammate. Please do not prevent us from doing so."

With a sigh, the nurse consented. "Fine, but don't wake him. He got out of surgery about ten minutes ago."

"Of course."

And, with that, the team quietly entered the room. Looking at their injured teammate, they knew that, even if he'd been awake, there was no way they could have communicated with the boy. Bandages wrapped the entire bottom portion of his head, the only opening being the one at his nose so he could breathe.

"Akaya-kun..." Marui muttered. The redhead was another that thought of the junior as a little brother.

Similar mutters were heard throughout the group, sorrow in their eyes as they observed their fallen member. After several moments, the group stepped out. Sanada carefully closed the door behind him. Somberly, the team walked back to the elevators to wait for Seigaku in the lobby.

"How are you feeling, Taka-san?" Eiji inquired.

Kawamura smiled at his friend. "I'm fine, Eiji. According to the doctor, I shouldn't even be awake right now, so I guess I'm stronger than they thought."

"You'll always being Seigaku's strongest, Kawamura," Tezuka replied, gaining nods from the others.

"That's right, Taka-san, you're even the strongest junior high player in Japan!" Eiji added energetically.

"That's right," Fuji added softly. A few raised eyebrows met this, but no one commented on it.

Inui pushed his glasses up his nose. "They're right, Kawamura. There is a 100 percent chance that you are the strongest player around."

Momo and Kaidoh added their input.

"Fshuuu..."

"Ossu!"

Oishi spoke up. "Yeah. You're Taka, and you'll always be strong."

Smiling broadly, Kawamura looked at his friends, his teammates, his family. "Thanks, you guys."

Tezuka glanced at his watch. "Ah, we have to go, minna. Kawamura, we'll stop bye again."

"Bye, guys."

The Seigaku regulars made their good byes and followed Tezuka out the door, the last member, Oishi, softly closing the door behind him.

The two teams met in the lobby. Noticing Niou's absence, Tezuka glanced at Sanada. "No news on Yukimura?"

"No. Niou hasn't returned yet so – speak of the devil."

The group turned to see Niou's entrance. Their hope, though, was misplaced.

"Sorry, guys, they told me that visiting hours were over. As far as I know, they're still doing tests on Yukimura-buchou."

Sighing, the group looked at Tezuka and Sanada, who were the leading figures in the group. Before either could speak however, Itoshiko rushed into the building, the freshmen trio on his heels. Spotting Tezuka, he asked, "Which way?"

Knowing exactly what he was talking about, the teens pointed in the direction of the examination room. The doctor rushed off, leaving the three boys behind. They looked at their captain, obviously waiting for his words. Tezuka turned, receiving similar looks from the regulars. Not knowing exactly what to say, he was saved by Sumire's arrival.

"All right, boys, here's the deal. Yukimura's still being looked at, and they have no idea how long that will take. I left my number, as well as yours, Sanada-kun. Now, I'm sure my team's going to go home. What about your team?"

Sanada looked at each member before answering. "We'll be heading home, too. We don't have accommodations, so we can't stay here. Besides, Yukimura wouldn't want us to shirk our responsibilities just because he's down."

Sumire smirked slightly. Maybe the kid did have some promise. "Of course. Safe travels, boys."

After farewells were exchanged, the teams went separate ways. Coach Ryuuzaki volunteered to take the freshmen home by Oishi's suggestion.

As Tezuka drifted off to sleep that night, one thought stood out above the rest. Even when things looked bleak, they stuck together and held strong. They were a team. They were friends. They were family. They were Seigaku.

AN: And that's the end of the Rikkai arc. Honestly, it just got harder and harder to write, so I'm kind of glad it's over. But, at the same time, I'm going to miss it. Rikkai Dai is one of my favorite teams. Anyway, the next arc will be a non-tennis arc with Fudoumine. Yeah, I want to get away from the tennis for a while, otherwise it'll get stagnant. At least you'll still have Ryoma's match, which will only get more intense from here.

As usual, if there are any plot holes, grammar issues, etc., tell me. Oh, and review. It's an awesome feeling to read those. Not as great as being with my girlfriend ^.^, but still pretty cool.

Thanks again. And, I'll see ya in the next chapter!