Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis by Konomi Takeshi or Lilting Glamour's characters.

A/N: I'm not trying to sound rude and I apologize if I come off that way, but there's been a review drought recently and I'd really, really, really, appreciate it if you left one after reading. Thank you!

~xXx~

"And I know

The scariest part is letting go

'Cause love is a ghost you can't control

I promise you the truth can't hurt us now

So let the words slip out of your mouth."

—Christina Perri, The Words

~xXx~

The sound of a racquet clattering on the ground echoed across the silent changing room. "I have had enough," Risae snapped, her teakwood brown eyes flashing. "Either you change your fucking attitude—which we all know won't happen—or I'm not playing doubles with you anymore. You have about fifteen seconds to make up your mind."

"Risae," Ayuka murmured quietly, reaching forward and tugging at her elbow. "Just calm down." Despite her words, the vice captain's head was lowered, expression unable to be seen.

Jerking her arm out of Ayuka's grip, Risae snarled, "Stay out of this, Ayuka," and jabbed an accusing finger at Hazuki. "I have dealt with you for way too long, Akiyoshi. I've played double with you for two years because no one else would and you refuse to play singles, but I am not dealing with you anymore after what happened last week."

All the other girls in the changing room looked positively terrified for Risae, while Hazuki, whose expression had not changed once the entire time, merely looked amused, hungry for challenge. "Is this an ultimatum or something, Risae?" She spoke quietly, as smoothly and evenly as the surface of the sky.

Gritting her teeth, Risae shook her head. "Not quite," she disagreed, still as hostile and angry as she had been since the beginning of her outburst. "This is just me sticking up for myself and for the rest of us, because you're just a god awful person who makes a god awful captain, and you have no right to treat us like shit," the blonde hissed.

Hazuki fell silent, which Risae did not know whether to take as a good or bad thing, but she certainly wasn't done yet. She glanced around the room, looking at every single face of the ones that had been mistreated by their captain. There was Ami, whose terror showed right on her face, and Tsubaki, though seeming brave, had a furrowed brow that expressed worry. Kotone, who retained her usual air of distance, but she was fidgeting nervously with her fingers and averted her gaze to the ground the second Risae looked at her. Even Teruko, who was a master at messing with people's minds, appeared as if she wanted to flee at any second.

Finally, she looked at Ayuka, the only one that she had ever really considered a friend of the girls' team. Ayuka, who was sweet and plain and shy, who would never dare to lash out even though she held a higher prowess in tennis than her captain. Ayuka, who had never done anything wrong and was the last person on earth to deserve the way Hazuki treated everyone.

"Well?" Risae snapped, causing everyone to jerk upright. "Don't any of you have anything to say?"

Nobody moved, no one even dared. Curling her lip in anger, Risae thought, cowards, you're all cowards.

"I suppose that answers everything," Hazuki shrugged, turning to inspect herself in a mirror. She tightened her ponytail, said, "If that's how you want it, then that's what you'll get."

"You," a short first year with long braids and doe-like brown eyes widened her eyes even more in fear when Hazuki pointed to her. "You're not bad for a first year, so you'll be taking Risae's place, Ryuzaki."

Sakuno's face was a mix of terror and curiosity. "Akiyoshi-buchou, you mean…" she trailed off, gaze shifting back and forth from Risae to Hazuki and back again.

"Oh yes," Hazuki confirmed, nodding. She picked up Risae's discarded racquet from the floor, carelessly tossed it back to her. "Risae will be taken off the regulars."

Silence fell once again, all eyes on the blonde that had dared to speak out. They all expected her to cry out, to be absolutely furious.

Instead, Risae looked as calm as Hazuki, lifting her chin indignantly. "What makes you think I fucking care?" She demanded, turning on her heel and marching out of the locker room without waiting for an answer.

~xXx~

"Mind if I speak to you about something that's not school related, sensei?" Yukio asked lowly, waiting for the rest of the class to trickle out.

Daisuke raised a brow, carefully removing his reading glasses and sighing. "This is about Ikue, isn't it?" He asked, but it was obvious that he already knew the answer. "She says that she's been going to practices, and it's not like I think she's a liar or anything, but…there's no way that what happened during that match hasn't brought back some very painful memories."

"I know," Yukio nodded, thinking back to a time when Kaiya had gone into painful withdrawal and he hadn't been able to do anything about it. The pain of being useless wasn't nearly as bad as the pain she had been going through, but it was still pain nonetheless, and all forms of pain tore holes into the heart. "And I don't want to push her back into practice before she's ready, but she needs to know that she is an important part of the team, and that we need her, sensei," he explained quietly.

The older man raked a hand through his dark hair. Sadly, he said, "She used to have a mom, you know? We took her in because we knew her mother well, but even though Ikue doesn't remember her, she still misses the idea and being of her, in a way. It's always been so hard for her," Daisuke murmured quietly, lowering his eyes once he had finished, like he had just revealed some hidden truth that he somewhat wished he hadn't shared.

Confused, Yukio raised a brow. "What do you mean she's never had a mom?" He gestured to the silver band on Daisuke's left ring finger. "Aren't you married and…oh." Realization clouded his face as he slowly nodded. "That's what you mean."

"Mmm," Daisuke nodded, gazing down at the ring. Cracking a smile that was clearly fake, he said, "It's okay if you think differently about me now, Shimazaki-kun, but I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from telling anyone else. Not even Kitano-san."

Rapidly, Yukio shook his head. "Knowing that doesn't change the fact that you're an amazing teacher at this school, Okamura-sensei," he pointed out. "I was just surprised, considering how popular you are with all the girls here," Yukio laughed, giving him an honest, encouraging smile.

Daisuke returned it, green eyes warm and thankful. "Thank you, Shimazaki-kun. As for the married part," he took a deep breath, continued, "We're not technically married, since we didn't want to cause any trouble or raise any concerns, but we still wear rings anyway. And now," Daisuke laughed, lifting a hand to rub at his forehead. "And now I'm wondering why I'm giving all this information to one of my students, who's also my daughter's tennis coach."

Only then remembering that he had come to talk about Ikue, Yukio cleared his throat quietly. "I should get going to my next class, sensei, but just…try to talk to Shiina, alright? She's worth so much more than what she thinks."

~xXx~

Just as Narumi had promised, the rest of the Oshitari family were just like Yuushi and Kenya—smart and talented, obviously, but a bit eccentric. Oh, and pretty much all of them were doctors, now that Anna thought about it.

They had stayed at Kenya's house last night, but today, the day before Oshitari Chiho's wedding, the entire family was gathered there, and it was a damn big family. Anna had already met more aunts, uncles, cousins, and siblings than she could count in her family, and there would still be the groom's relatives tomorrow.

Stepping out back to get some air, she couldn't help but sigh and wistfully look up at the night sky. The Oshitaris were all so close to each other, all showed so much love and harmony than Anna had never knew existed. She thought of her own family, or the tattered, ragged remains of what could hardly be called one.

Her parents had divorced when she was in eighth grade, though it was more like her mother storming out in a rage and her father calling after her, wondering what on earth he had done wrong. But he hadn't done anything wrong, Anna knew, and she knew that he knew that, too. My fault, she thought hollowly, squeezing her hands into fists. My fault, my fault, my fault, I'm so sorry.

It hadn't taken long for her father to move on, though. Just a year and a half later, Hayashi Masato met Sugita Yuzuki, a woman that was both externally and internally attractive, and they were still together after more than three years.

That much about her parents hadn't been so bad. Anna knew that she had caused it herself, so she didn't have a right or reason to be angry at her father or Yuzuki, but for some stubborn, goddamned reason, she was. The worst moment of her life had been when Misaki, her steady and dependable older sister with hair the color of cinnamon had left for Rikkai during middle school. That had been even before their parents had split, when Anna was just a first year at Hyotei. Everything had gone spiraling out of control after Misaki left, but it hadn't been the older sister's fault. Anna could never blame Misaki for anything, especially not for something that Misaki wasn't to blame for. She only wished that her sister could have come back.

The sound of a door sliding open brought Anna back to the present. She looked over her shoulder to find Kenya's girlfriend, wearing plaid with the sleeves rolled up and denim shorts. A strange feeling had been nagging at Anna ever since she'd met her at the train station, like there was something familiar about Narumi that she couldn't quite remember. "Is the craziness of the Oshitaris getting to you?" Narumi joked, dropping into a chair next to Anna's. "Not that I can blame you, but they're a great bunch, aren't they?"

Anna smiled a little. "Yeah," she agreed. "They really are great." And she truly thought so, because they were a family that she wished she could have, or one that the Hayashis could have become had she not messed up. Changing the subject, she asked, "I'm sorry, but do you play tennis? I feel like I've seen you before."

Narumi laughed, leaning back and smirking. "It took you long enough to remember. I played against one of your seniors last year in the first round of Nationals, Singles 3."

Ohh, the blonde thought. Now it all came clicking back. She remembered that very match Narumi was speaking of, when Hyotei's former vice captain had been chosen to play their first game at Nationals. If she recalled, Narumi had lost by a very narrow margin after a long tiebreaker. "Wait," Anna frowned, hazel eyes narrowing in thought. "Wasn't your hair…purple?"

Narumi groaned instantly, slapping her forehead. "Don't remind me," she whined, looking positively miffed. "One of my friends who's also on the team, Kaiya, she pranked all of us by putting hair dye in our shampoo and I was the only one who couldn't get it out by then. I sent her the water bill when all of it was finally out."

Anna couldn't help laughing, remembering how strange the Shitenhouji girl had looked when she'd played with neon purple hair. "It was quite a spectacle though, and at least you were a regular last year," she pointed out, bitterly thinking back to how she had lost to Ikue in the ranking tournament, and Ikue had even given up her spot for a third year that wasn't nearly as good. That had been way back before they'd became friends, before Anna had ever even talked to her. Back then, she'd only known her as the girl that she should have won against.

And now, just one year later, wasn't it rather ironic that she was risking a lot of things to try and make Ikue happy?

Narumi shrugged at the compliment. "It wasn't really that big. We didn't have any third years last year, so it was pretty much the same team except for one person." She explained. Folding her arms behind her head, her voice suddenly turned serious, sapphire blue eyes darkening. "Hey, you don't happen to have a Takahashi on your team, do you?"

Slightly confused, Anna shook her head. Narumi was clearly trying to sound casual, but there was something much more serious going on. "No," Anna replied, thinking of a girl from Seigaku that was a parallel to her. "But there was this girl from Seigaku that our captain played last week called Takahashi Kotone, if that's the one you're talking about," she added as an afterthought. "Why?"

"Nothing," Narumi shrugged, but once again it felt as if she were hiding something. "Her sister goes to our school, that's all."

Before Anna could say anything, the sound of the door opening interrupted them, revealing Yuushi. "Kenya's looking for you," he said to Narumi, rolling his eyes. "Something about wanting you to defend his fashion statements."

Narumi scoffed. "If anyone—even if he's my boyfriend—ever wants me to defend seizure-inducing neon clothes and bleached hair, he'd better think again," she joked, getting up nonetheless. "See you tomorrow, Hayashi," she called as she left.

Yuushi, who was still standing by the door, glanced at Anna in concern. "Nobody did anything too intense to scare you, did they?" He checked, sitting in front of her on the steps.

She shook her head. "No, they were fine," Anna smiled softly at his back. "I like them a lot, to be honest."

"That's good," Yuushi nodded, leaning back on his hands. "They've always been lively, and when I was younger I used to think that they were a bit too much."

Anna wondered what would happen if she got just a little closer, if she could say that the night air was chilly as an excuse. "Is that why you left?" She asked, shifting down to sit by him on the same step.

He looked surprised by the sudden movement, but not uncomfortable, at least. His gaze remained on the sky, stars reflecting back in his glasses. "Kind of," Yuushi admitted, a hint of shame in his voice. "But it was mostly because things weren't as easy here as they are in Tokyo. I wasn't exactly the most popular kid, believe it or not."

"Oh?" She teased, leaning back and resting her hands on her stomach. "That's not hard to imagine, actually."

Lazily, he swatted at her shoulder. "Shut it, beauty queen. I got a scholarship for Hyotei in sixth grade, and Kenya did, too, but he didn't want to leave. I didn't want to stay, on the other hand, so I packed my bags as quickly as I could. Kind of left with my tail between my legs, actually," Yuushi recalled ruefully, shaking his head in shame.

Anna scoffed. "Don't go all wishy-washy on me, Oshitari," she half-snapped, tempted to reach out and hit his back from where she lay on the porch. "I think it was the right decision for you to leave, if you really didn't want to stay. I mean, I wouldn't have the guts go to an entirely different region all by myself if I was only twelve. What happened to the suave and confident Oshitari I knew?"

Yuushi was quiet for a long time, enough to make her worry that she had offended him somehow. Just as she was about to ask, he suddenly leaned back as well, until he rested shoulder to shoulder with her and their heads were only centimeters apart. "Maybe he only exists in Tokyo," Yuushi replied softly, thoughtfully. She heard him turn his head to face hers, which she mirrored, and they were closer than she had expected. "What about you, then? Where's that cold and distant beauty queen who used to hate me?" He teased.

It was just a joke, but she took a second to contemplate it anyway. The girl she had been just a little over a month ago was different than the one she was now. A month ago, she wouldn't have even talked to Yuushi for more than two minutes, much less have gone to Osaka with him. She also wouldn't have been friends with Ikue, either, and would have thought of the violet-eyed girl as someone to dislike.

"I think," Anna said, turning her head away as she answered. She could still feel his eyes watching her, burning into her golden hair. "I think she doesn't want to exist anymore."

She waited for his response, breath catching in her throat in trepidation of what he might say. Finally, he murmured, "I see."

Her heart was beating quickly—too quickly for her comfort, really. And it was doing that for a reason she was aware of but wanted to deny, and that just made everything so much more complicated. But she didn't move away, and just accepted the truth.

I'm starting to like you, aren't I, you bastard?

~xXx~

"You should have dragged Fukumitsu here and not me," Shun yawned, running her fingers through her disheveled, dark hair. "It's way too early in the morning to be awake."

Tsukiko rolled her eyes. "I can understand Yuuka complaining, but you, Shun? Since when did you become so friendly?" The captain commented, also looking tired and irritated. It may have just been Shun's imagination, but Tsukiko appeared to be looking more tired with each passing day, and her temper was certainly not benefiting from it.

"I still wouldn't call myself friendly," she shrugged, effectively dodging the question, because yes, she did know when she had started to become friendlier. Ever since she'd seen how much all of her teammates had put into the Seigaku match, since she'd witnessed Airi almost die from an asthma attack and since…since she'd started talking to Jirou, of all people.

"You do seem a bit more cheerful though," Tsukiko pointed out, trying to rub the sleeplessness out of her eyes. "You haven't snapped or gotten into an argument with Yuuka once since last week."

Probably because Akechi's been dealing with her own issues, Shun thought. Quite possibly everyone in Tokyo had read the newspaper article by Sakurai Megumi about Yuuka and Atobe's supposed lover's quarrel in the restaurant where she had dumped a glass of ice water on his head. Yuuka's reaction wasn't quite as intense as her reaction to the one in the Hyotei school newspaper, but she had still been annoyed and completely ignoring Atobe ever since.

"Anyway," Tsukiko shrugged, covering her mouth as she opened the door to the tournament drawing building. "Let's just get a good number today so we can get an easy cruise to the finals."

"Yeah," Shun agreed, fingers twitching with the anticipation to play an official match again.

They quickly found seats near the back, near some low seeded schools that Shun knew wouldn't make it past the first few rounds. Hyotei were Tokyo's first seed, while Seigaku had placed third after losing in the prefectural semi-finals. Rikkai, as expected, were Kanagawa's number one seed by a long shot.

Speaking of Rikkai, Shun couldn't help but search the room for a familiar figure, wondering, praying, and hoping that she would be here. Please be here, Takara, I haven't seen you in so long, and you're not replying to my texts anymore.

Before she could do much searching, though, the tournament official called for the first school, and Shun chose to pay attention to the front of the room to see which numbers would be drawn.

"Seishun Academy!"

The far too familiar figure of Akiyoshi Hazuki stood up, steadily and carefully moving to the front of the room like a wolf hunting for prey. Her brown eyes were glinting as wickedly as Shun remembered, and she shuddered at the mere thought of Hazuki, even if she had never played her before.

Hazuki drew the number sixteen, which made Seigaku be placed in the bottom right corner of the board. Josei Shounan, which had already drawn fifteen, would be playing them first, and Shun was thankful that they wouldn't be playing Seigaku again first.

"I've heard that there's been some trouble going on for Seigaku's girls," Tsukiko whispered as Hazuki slinked back to her seat next to Mayuzumi Ayuka, who was looking away with downcast eyes. "Something involving Furuya Risae, the girl that played doubles with Akiyoshi-san."

Shun was intrigued. "I thought Seigaku doesn't play with a reserve?" She whispered back, eyeing Hazuki and Ayuka with a narrowed gaze. "So if one of them quits…they have to find a sub-regular to replace them, which is always risky."

"Rikkaidai High School!"

Immediately, Shun snapped to attention, practically shooting lasers from her eyes from how intensely she was staring. Please be Takara, please be Takara.

But it was a pale girl with even paler hair that was making her way up, her strides deathly calm. Shun remembered her too, the girl with teal eyes who was even more intimidating than Akamine Hana. "Ikeda Minori," she hissed, "Rikkai's captain."

Tsukiko nodded beside her, eyes wary and focused, no longer tired. "I've heard that she's a real monster to play," Tsukiko replied, voice tightening. "On par with Erena, maybe better considering her former captain."

"Who's that?"

"Does the name Takihara Akiko ring a bell?" Tsukiko laughed bitterly. "Takihara and Anna's sister completely destroyed us in Doubles 1 last year. They're on a league of their own."

Shun nodded carefully. The name did sound very familiar to her, now that she thought of it. "Weren't they the ones that left Hyotei for Rikkai in middle school and are now playing on the professional circuit?"

"The very ones."

"Hyotei Academy!"

Suddenly, Shun panicked. "What number did Ikeda draw?" she hissed, gripping Tsukiko's arm as the red-haired girl stood up. "We were too busy talking to pay attention!"

Strangely calm, Tsukiko extricated her arm from Shun's grip. "We'll just have to find out, Shun," she said, walking up with graceful, loping steps.

Tsukiko drew number three, which was safely on the other side of the board as Seigaku. Squinting to see clearly, Shun was also grateful to see that Ikeda Minori had gotten the number seven, which made Rikkai on the top right. Rikkai and Seigaku would undoubtedly face each other in the semi-finals, and if Hyotei were lucky, they would be playing the winner in the finals.

When the drawing was over, Shun was glad to find that their side of the board was mostly filled with lower seeded schools, with the exception of Rokkaku, whom they would be playing in the second round. Even if they lost then, they would still be going to Nationals.

"We got pretty lucky," Tsukiko said exactly what Shun had been thinking, except she didn't seem nearly as thankful. "But we'll most definitely be playing Seigaku or Rikkai in the finals, which won't be easy."

"Damn right it won't," a familiar voice belonging to a far too familiar demon sang, signaling the entrance of Hazuki and Ayuka. Hazuki was smirking not unlike Yuuka, except there was much more malice rather than Yuuka's sass. "Just remember, Hyotei, that if sweet little Ami hadn't insisted that we forfeit, Ayuka here might have beaten your Fukumitsu."

Ayuka still did not raise her eyes from the floor, not even showing that she had heard Hazuki.

"That's great to know," Tsukiko snapped, irritation creeping into her voice. Apparently, with just the right people, shy Tsukiko's temper could become much shorter and explosive. "And they're such big words from you, Akiyoshi, when there's rumors that your very own doubles partner has quit the team."

Hazuki shrugged. "Sadly, Risae has been very difficult recently, but it's not like that was never going to happen anyway. It's the people like her that seem to be the most calm and collected but really aren't, because deep down they're nothing but judgmental and weak. Just like quite a few of your team members, Sorano."

"Like who?" Tsukiko gritted her teeth, looking like she wanted to pounce and claw Hazuki's throat out. Warningly, Shun kicked her ankle. Don't let that bitch bring out the worst in you, Tsukiko.

"Oh, where to begin?" Hazuki mused, dramatically tapping her chin as she pretended to think. "I guess we could start with that second year of yours that was too nervous to hit the ball during our doubles match. Kato, was it?"

"Kataoka."

"It was Kataoka? Well then," the Seigaku captain lifted a shoulder indifferently. "Then there was her doubles partner, Shiina Ikue. I had a very nice reconciliation with her, though I don't think she thought it was so nice," Hazuki's lip curled.

Now it was Shun's turn to want to claw Hazuki's throat out—not that she hadn't wanted to slap the bitch straight to hell for a week. "Whatever you told her seriously hurt her, and now she's not talking to any of us," Shun snarled, stepping in front of Tsukiko and glaring at Hazuki eye to eye.

"Well isn't that a shame?" Hazuki responded with mock sympathy. "You're better off without such a weak teammate, trust me. But you know who the weakest of them all is, Sorano, Himura?" She leaned forward until she was right in Shun's face. "It's that disaster of a punk, Akechi Yuuka."

"Don't you dare, you bitch!" Tsukiko cried out, taking a step forward when suddenly—

"Mind moving a little? You're blocking the path."

Shun only vaguely recognized the voice, but it was still enough to send chills down her spine and make her want to curl up in a ball until the world ended. Both her and Hazuki turned at the same time to face Ikeda Minori, the pale snow queen of the most elite tennis team in the nation.

Hazuki, who wasn't affected like Shun, looked at Minori indifferently. "Hello, Ikeda," she greeted with various degrees of fakeness. "Since when have you chosen to interfere with the affairs of Seigaku and Hyotei?"

Minori, unlike Hazuki's indifference, was simply impassive, not showing or registering any emotion of her face, and what really scared Shun was how there was nothing but teal in her eyes. One look and you drowned, because they were as unreadable as their owner.

"I don't particularly care," Minori stated simply, arms crossed against her yellow and black jersey. "But I don't particularly have a tolerance for people that are blocking my way." And with that, she calmly shoved past Shun and Hazuki, out the door.

Another Rikkai girl hastily followed, but to Shun's disappointment she had curly brown hair and glasses, and she was most certainly not Takara. "I'd say for you to excuse Minori, but she probably doesn't care much for you so I'd better not," the girl sighed, jogging out the door.

"Come on, Shun," Tsukiko sighed, sounding tired and irritated again. "Let's go and report this to Yuuka and Shimazaki."

"Just one more thing, Himura," Hazuki hissed, gripping Shun's elbow and digging her nails in hard enough that there would most definitely be marks. Shun wanted to scream out in pain, but she would never give Hazuki the pleasure of that. "Next time, you won't be saved by Rikkai. You're going to get destroyed—by them or by us, either way you will go down in flames."

Shun grimaced. "Then it's a good thing you'll be burned out again."

~xXx~

It was unusual enough that Daisuke had gotten home first, but it was even more unusual to find him cooking. Hotaka had learned a long, long, long time ago that Daisuke wasn't a terrible cook, but he certainly wasn't that good, either. That was why Hotaka had always tried to come home first so Ikue wouldn't have to suffer.

Hands on his hips, Hotaka marched into the kitchen. "Daisuke…" he began, effectively capturing his partner's attention with the seriousness in his voice. "What do you think you're doing?"

Guiltily, Daisuke gestured to the carrots he was cutting with a bread knife. "Err…soup?" He guessed, making his usual guilty, puppy-eyed expression that Hotaka usually couldn't resist—and no, that was not the case now. Most certainly not the case, the blue-eyed man tried to convince himself.

Threateningly, he commanded, "Put the knife down, Daisuke, and step away from the counter before you get the fire alarm going."

The taller man sighed, dropping the bread knife and washing his hands. "That was only once," he pointed out, wiping his hands.

"Mmm-hmm, well that does not need to happen again," Hotaka countered, making his way over and inspecting the unevenly cut carrots. "How were you planning on making soup in the first place?"

Laughing, Daisuke pressed his lips to the top of Hotaka's blond hair, causing the shorter man to momentarily lose concentration. "You would have eaten it, anyway," he murmured, wrapping his arms around Hotaka's smaller build and kissing his head again.

Hotaka felt his cheeks flaring up. "Shut up," he mumbled, tugging on his partner's sleeve. "And not that I'm complaining, but why are you home so early?"

Immediately, Daisuke tensed up, and that was enough for Hotaka to know that something was wrong. Sighing, the taller man loosened his arms from around Hotaka and ran his fingers through his black hair. "Yesterday, Shimazaki-kun mentioned that Ikue has been struggling a little during practice, and I just want her to be happy but I don't know how to do that without risk of making things worse." He admitted, leaning against the wall.

"Oh?" Hotaka replied, glancing at the door to Ikue's bedroom where she undoubtedly was right now—her shoes had been in the front hall, which meant that she had skipped practice again. "Does she seem okay to you?"

"No, she doesn't, and that's the thing," Daisuke sighed again. "I know what happened to her back in elementary school, but I don't understand exactly how she felt and still feels, and I'm afraid that if I say something wrong it will only hurt her even more."

Hotaka nodded in understanding. He glanced back at the carrots one more time before deciding, "I'll talk to her. After all, I've got some…experience that you don't have," he said carefully, already knowing what Daisuke's response was going to be.

Sure enough, the black haired man looked worried. "Hotaka, I don't want you doing anything that will bring back painful memories for you, but if you really think it's going to help, you should tell her," he replied. "But just remember that if things get too painful for you to remember…I'm still here, okay? I'm still here, and I've chosen you time and time again that it isn't even a choice anymore."

"I know," Hotaka smiled weakly, taking a step forward and embracing the taller, broader man. "And I'm lucky that you're still here."

Humming softly, Daisuke lifted up a hand to tilt Hotaka's chin up and kissed him. "I'll try and see if I can finish dinner without causing the apocalypse," he smiled.

"You'd better still be alive when I get back," Hotaka warned, but he found himself gripping Daisuke's hand and squeezing it hard. If Daisuke were to ever leave him…well, he chose not to think about that.

~xXx~

"Ikue?" Hotaka rapped on her bedroom door softly, listening for any response.

"You can come in," she called, voice devoid of any emotion. That, he knew, was certainly not good.

He stepped in carefully, quietly shutting the door behind him. Ikue's room was rather plain, with just the common necessities like a bed and dresser and a desk. The only source of decoration were the framed pictures of the three of them hanging on the wall, documenting a different year of their lives. There were fourteen frames up there—fourteen years of her life that she had been with them, fourteen away from her real parents, Hotaka thought sadly.

Ikue herself was lying on her back, still in her school uniform. There were dark shadows under her eyes from sleeplessness and a redness rimming around them that meant she had been crying earlier. She looked barren and empty, like she had once been a full blooming meadow and was now just an endless field of emptiness.

"Why have you been skipping so many practices?" Hotaka asked quietly, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

She shrugged, or the best she could shrug considering she was lying down. "Being there just reminds me of what Akiyoshi said to me—what they all used to say to me," she replied, voice cracking.

"Oh," he nodded, staring down at his hands in his lap. "I know how you feel."

Ikue laughed bitterly. "Do you really understand? You've always had Daisuke with you, I don't think you really understand how it feels to be bullied and alone for so long," she retorted, her anger not directed towards him, just being taken out on him.

"I do know," Hotaka said, squeezing his fingers together. "Because I've been bullied, too."

That caught her attention. "What?" She asked, rising up in surprise. "How could anyone ever bully you, when you're Koike Hotaka, when you're you, when you always had Daisuke?"

Hotaka smiled ruefully. "It's because I always had Daisuke that I became a victim."

"Hotaka?" Ikue said, touching his hand with hers. "Tell me."

He took a deep breath, Daisuke's words echoing in his mind. I'm still here, okay? I'm still here, and I've chosen you time and time again that it isn't even a choice anymore.

I still have you, Daisuke, and you're still choosing me every day.

Silently, he exhaled, and then he began.

~xXx~

Their story had begun so long ago that neither of them could remember but liked to believe that it had been woven in the stars, that a red string of fate had been wrapped around their pinkies since the beginning of time. Daisuke and Hotaka, the inseparable pair from the town they had grown up in in Kyoto.

Hotaka had always been built with a tall yet slender, almost fragile build—shoulders that were just the tiniest bit less narrow than most boys their age and unable to run as fast or as long as the rest of them. He was more introverted, too, unsure of how to make friends and while some thought he was cold and distant, he really just didn't like approaching people.

Except for Daisuke, of course. Daisuke had always been the only exception.

Almost the opposite of Hotaka, Daisuke had always been better built than the other boys. Taller, broader shoulders, more muscular, could run faster and for longer distances than everyone else. With his gentle, calming green eyes and natural amiability, people had always crowded around Daisuke like he was light and they were moths. But Daisuke had only ever had eyes for Hotaka, shielding him the closest and giving him the most light.

Hotaka didn't quite remember when he'd realized his feelings, but he did remember the raw panic that had followed that realization. Was Daisuke going to love him back? Would he still be his friend? Would he still even talk or look at Hotaka after the truth came out? Because Daisuke was handsome and kind enough to capture anybody, male or female's heart, and intelligent enough to make it on his own if he wanted. Why would he want fragile, lonely Hotaka, just because they had known each other much longer?

Daisuke had joined basketball in middle school, and due to his height and athleticism, he was an instant star. He'd played all through middle and high school, and that had only added to his popularity. Hotaka used to go and watch his games, silently cheering for him and always the first one that he would look to after the game had ended. At least, Hotaka used to go and watch, until some upperclassmen in the art club had to ruin everything.

Too slender to play most sports, Hotaka had joined the art club, where he could be left alone to paint and sketch in peace. The president of the art club had been some popular third year whose name he couldn't remember, and she, like many others, had shown an interest in Daisuke. And, like everyone else who liked Daisuke, they all knew that Hotaka was the only one he ever spent any time with outside of school, and that made him the cause of many jealous glares.

One day, in the middle of heading to art club with his sketchbook in hand, a particularly rough third year had shoved Hotaka hard enough that he'd fallen over and his sketchbook had gone flying. It had landed at the feet of his art club senior, right open to one of the many pages of his sketches. And she had laughed and pointed, because it was a sketch of Daisuke. All of his sketches were of Daisuke, ranging from a headshot of Daisuke smiling to Daisuke shirtless, holding a basketball and wearing his reading glasses.

The only thing that could have made it any worse was what had happened next. Daisuke appeared from behind the art club senior, and confused, he asked what was going on. Hotaka, who had still been on the floor, had lunged for his sketchbook, but to no avail. The art club senior had picked it up and handed it right to Daisuke, and the second he saw the sketches of him his eyes darkened.

That had been enough for Hotaka to get up and run, run like his life depended on it.

The next morning, he'd refused to get out of bed, terrified of what would happen to him if he went to school. The bullying from the other kids would only get worse, he knew that, but that wasn't his biggest concern. The only thing he didn't want was for Daisuke to look at him differently, to have disgust on his face and never speak to him again.

But then his bedroom door opened, and in stepped Daisuke, tall and broad-shouldered with his school uniform immaculate, and he still had that same, warm smile he always reserved for Hotaka, and that was enough for Hotaka to know that he wouldn't be treated any differently, that everything would be alright with the only person that had ever mattered, at least.

~xXx~

Ikue raised a brow. "But the bullying didn't stop, did it?" She pointed out hollowly.

Hotaka shook his head. "No, definitely not," he agreed, subconsciously tracing his fingers against the line of his collarbone. He could still feel the pain of being shoved into walls, more forceful each time. Of being watched and pointed and laughed at everywhere he went in the school. "It only got worse, if anything, now that they all knew I was in love with him. I was also only targeted when I wasn't with him."

"So what's the point of telling me this?" Ikue demanded, raw pain and fear clouding every other emotion in her voice. She was desperate, he knew, desperate for an answer, for a reason to go back to her friends and forget the pain she'd once gone through.

"All I'm saying," Hotaka shrugged, turning to face her. "Is that look at what happened to me in the end. I made it past high school despite all the bullying, and seventeen years later I'm still with Daisuke and have you with us." He offered her a smile. "Everyone says this, and I know that you're probably tired of hearing it, but Ikue…things do get better, okay? But they won't get better if you try to lock yourself away like this, and you have to try and move past everything. I know that with you, it will all be better soon," Hotaka promised, finding her hand and squeezing it tightly.

She stared down at her hand in his, being lent support and hope. Swallowing thickly, she asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper, "Did my mom treat you badly, too?"

Hotaka shook his head, giving her hand another squeeze. "She was the only person that was friends with both of us, of course not," he replied, smiling at the memory of having two people supporting him for the first time in his life. "And you're just like her, you know, because you're both such amazing people."

Ikue looked at him with her violet eyes—just like her mother's, he remembered—and he could see that she was fighting more tears, that she didn't want to cry but was going to anyway. So he hugged her, gave her hand one last squeeze, and left the room, because he knew that if there was one thing she never did it was cry in front of others, and that would never change.

Daisuke was in the living room, reading a book on the couch with the same reading glasses he'd had since he was seventeen. Upon seeing Hotaka exiting Ikue's room, he set the book down. "How did that go?"

"Fine," Hotaka answered vaguely, breezing over to sit next to him on the couch. "I don't know if she'll have a change of heart overnight, but I do know that she'll start going back to practices again soon."

"That's great," Daisuke hummed, placing an arm around Hotaka's shoulder and resting his chin on top of his blond hair. "Say, do you still have that sketchbook?"

Blushing against his partner's neck, Hotaka mumbled, "Maybe," when the real answer was that he had it hidden underneath the bed. Sometimes, he liked to flip through it so he could look back and remember the people they were back when they were seventeen, when they were still in high school and only just acting on their feelings for each other.

Thoughtfully, Daisuke murmured, "I'm still here, and I'll choose you again and again," he promised, pressing his cheek to the top of Hotaka's head.

Hotaka smiled, because everything really had turned out so much better, hadn't it? "I know."

~xXx~

She zipped up her only suitcase, firmly patting it down to ensure that it would be compact enough to fit comfortably as carry on. Spinning around to view her now empty apartment, she whistled softly. "Masaru!" She called, whistling again for good measure.

It hadn't even been two months since she'd left, but two months had been enough for her to realize the truth. Had it really, she wondered, been such a smart idea to leave in the first place, or had she just been plain stupid?

She smiled ruefully to no one, because she really had been stupid. Some dreams, she'd found out, were better left as dreams rather than forced into reality.

"Masaru!" She called again, a little louder. This time, swift, thumping footsteps responded, followed by the figure of a handsome, proud German Shepherd.

I'm coming home, she thought, smiling as she kneeled down to rub Masaru's head. I'm coming home to pick up my life.

~xXx~

End

~xXx~

A/N: Guess who that was, mwahahahaha!

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Love, Cara