Well here I am, starting a new fanfic! I wrote this one for a friend at the NarutoFan forums. She's a member of the Prince of Tennis fan club there and asked me if I could construct a KiriharaxAn fanfic. I decided to give it a try and here we are! I hope you all enjoy it! A special thanks to nah-nah at NarutoFan for beta-reading it. Also, a shout out to haitu: Hope you enjoy the fic!


Of course I hated him. After all, he was the boy who single-handedly destroyed my brother's ankle with his sadistic tennis style, almost ruining any hope he had ever held of playing tennis and leading Fudoumine to a win at Nationals. Of course I hated him. The guy felt no remorse for injuring Kippei. After the damage was done he continued to taunt my brother and me, and even went so far as to insult our entire tennis club. Of course I hated him. He never held any respect for the game of tennis; he simply viewed the court as a torture chamber where he could inflict mental and physical pain on the opponent. Of course I hated him.

…Or so I thought. I held so much hate towards Kirihara Akaya that you should be able to imagine the great surprise I felt at the consternation coursing through me when he was hurt during his match at the Junior Invitational games. Days before, I had been occupied with nothing but actions of revenge (including pushing the devil down stairs) in hopes of inflicting him with some of the pain Kippei felt. Now I was upset to see him hurt! What was wrong with me? Regardless of the fact that I am a caring person who hates to see others harmed, I still had no right to feel down. That boy was the enemy, plain and simple. He was a sick, twisted jerk. I didn't care how much he claimed to be reformed. Internal change didn't alter the fact that Kippei was laid up in a hospital bed when he should be out playing the game he loved. Every time I thought about the injustice of the situation my blood boiled, but somehow the rage seemed to simmer when I was actually watching Kirihara play a clean match.

I wished I had someone to discuss the perplexing feelings with but the truth was my only friends were tennis players who happened to think poorly of the Rikkidai boy. I shuddered at the thought of broaching the subject with Kamio-kun. He would hate me for ever feeling anything other than detestation towards Kirihara. As if speaking to confirm my thoughts Kamio, laughed and said, "He injured Tachibana-buchou and now he's injured. Guess karma's a bitch."

I couldn't control the look of disdain that crossed my face. While there was some truth to his comments, I still believed them to be rude. The dark look unfortunately didn't go unnoticed by Kamio-kun. "What are you fuming about An-chan?" he questioned. "I assumed you'd be the most ecstatic person here. After all, Kirihara is the brute that hurt your brother."

I had actually assumed the same thing. I decided to chalk up the lack of happiness to my harmonious disposition. I tried convincing Kamio of this but he immediately spotted a flaw in my explanation. "You say that An-chan, but weren't you the one who pushed him down the stairs at camp? You can't seriously be telling me that you don't enjoy seeing Kirihara writhing in pain?"

"I don't enjoy it at all!" I exclaimed harshly. "I don't want any tennis player to suffer the same fate as Kippei! I don't wish that on anyone! Not even Kirihara!" With that I stood up from my seat and began walking away. Where I was planning on going, I didn't know. I only knew that tears were welling up behind my eyes; tears that I didn't want Kamio-kun to see. As I hurriedly brushed past the members of the Fudoumine team I realized why I wasn't rejoicing over the injury. I felt responsible. I felt as though all of my ill will towards Kirihara had leapt out of my mind and taken form in the shape of a horrid shoulder injury.

Of course, I had wished many times that Kirihara would get a taste of his own medicine--that he would feel my brother's agony. Since my brother had fallen victim to Kirihara's twisted tennis style, it was only natural that these evil thoughts swam through my mind, but I didn't actually want them to come true. No athlete should have to go though the same experience as my elder brother, even if it was Kirihara. Now that he was injured, I was feeling remorse for wishing harm on him. I knew that I was in no way at fault for what had happened, but I still felt bad. There was only one thing that would soothe my nerves now and I knew exactly what it was. Blinking my tears away, I set my course for the medical room.


Of course she hated me. I can't really say I blamed her. I was the one who put her brother in the hospital with a torn ankle ligament. Of course she hated me. After I inflicted the injury, I hadn't even apologized to her or the team. Quite to the contrary, I had been proud of the sadistic act I preformed. I had jeered at Fudoumine and gloated about hurting their captain. Of course she hated me. I spit on her views of what tennis should be. I never cared to uphold the dignity of the game. I just used it as a means of bullying others. Of course she hated me.

Or so I thought. I had assumed that Tachibana An held so much contempt towards me that she would never speak with me on her own free will, so you can imagine my shock when her disconcerted face emerged in the medical room, inquiring if I was alright. This was the same girl who pushed me down a flight of stairs only days before, and now she wanted to know how I was feeling? What was up with her? She had always struck me as the kind of person who would hold a grudge until the day she died. Never in all my life would I have guessed her to be the first person to check on my health after a tennis related injury. She should hate me. It didn't matter that I had begun to reform my evil ways. I had treated her like shit and disrespected the entire Fudoumine team. There was no reason for her to be concerned with me. None at all.

I wished I could ask her why she had come. I wanted these strange actions to be explained. Her presence felt awkward. I was unsure of her motives, unsure of what to say, and unsure of how to act. Tachibana opened her mouth to speak. I felt relief. Maybe now some of my many queries would get an answer. I was wrong. When the words came rushing out of her mouth it only made things more confusing for me.

"I'm sorry for pushing you down the stairs, I am sorry for any harsh words I may have directed at you, and I am sorry that I ever wished you harm--please forgive me Kirihara-san!" the younger Tachibana begged.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked. This whole scene seemed totally out of character for her: the regret, the begging, and even the tears that were now filling her eyes.

"No," she said, her voice quivering with confusion. "I'm very serious. Will you forgive me?"

"Don't mess with me!" I yelled, suddenly filled with fury. Tachibana, take aback, had no response, so I continued with my rant. "You can't just march down here and ask for forgiveness! You must be insane! I thought you hated me? Am I mistaken or weren't you the one who tried to hurt me at the Junior Invitational training camp! And now you want me to forgive you. You're totally messed up!"

As expected, Tachibana fled the room sobbing. I felt a little remorseful and for a second I wondered why I had chosen to tear into her like I did. Then a reason came to me. She made me feel guilty. The fact that I could treat her so poorly and still have her be concerned with my injury made me realize what I horrible person I was.

I had never thought twice about Tachibana An. I never cared if she was in pain, if she was hurt emotionally, or even if she was mentally crippled due to the injury I dealt to her brother. It never crossed my mind that I should apologize. I never had the impulse to ask An for forgiveness. And now, here she was, carrying out the act that I could never fulfill, being a good person who was actually capable of human feelings.

She should never have to apologize to me; I didn't care what her reasons were. I couldn't shake the image of a tearful An fleeing from the room. Knowing there was only one thing that could clear the image away I stealthily crawled out of bed and ran down the same path I had saw her take only moments before.


I should have known that he wouldn't so readily accept an apology from me, the witch who hurled him down a flight of stairs. It was too much to hope that Kirihara would forgive me and my soul could be at ease. He wasn't a nice person. I should have been prepared to have him scream at me. I should have figured he'd hold a grudge. But I hadn't been smart enough to think through the situation thoroughly. I was an optimist. I had hoped the situation would be resolved peacefully. A salty taste reached my mouth. With horror, I realized I had broken down in front of Kirihara, which caused the tears to fall harder. I was shaking uncontrollably with sorrow when I heard a voice behind me.

"Tachibana, wait!" I looked behind me to see Kirihara, gripping his shoulder in obvious pain, trying to run after me as fast as he could.

I stopped, whirled around and yelled, "You dumbass! Are you trying to further your injury? Get back to bed!"
"I need to talk to you," the emerald eyed boy said.

"No, you don't. I think I got the message. You hate me," I responded, trying to keep more tears from falling.

"You misunderstood me," Kirihara insisted.

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest. "There wasn't much room for interpretation when you informed me that I was insane for ever believing that you'd forgive me," I replied in a dry tone.

This last comment looked as though it actually wounded Kirihara. His face contorted in what seemed to be pain, and he bit his lower lip, as though he were trying to keep himself from blurting something out. I realized I was probably mistaken. The boy had suffered from a recent shoulder injury. It was more likely that his arm was what was bugging him and not my words. We stood in silence for a moment, Kirihara deep in thought and me wondering why he had run out of the infirmary only to stand around like a dimwit. Finally I couldn't stand the suffocating quiet any longer.

"Spit it out. What did you want to tell me? How did I misunderstand you?

"I…you…I mean…"

But before I could learn how "I" "you" and "I mean" correlated with Kirihara's loathing towards me, a familiar voice interrupted his stammering.

"What's going on here?" Kamio-kun asked. His eyes darted rapidly between Kirihara and me. I saw his glance finally settle on my still wet face, glistening with obvious traces of tears. Brain jumping to assumptions and Kamio advanced on Kirihara. "What did you do to her?" he growled through gritted teeth. "Why can't you leave her alone? Haven't you caused her enough trouble for one lifetime!"

Either his anger was driving all compassion out of him or Kamio had momentarily forgotten that Kirihara was suffering from a major injury because he grabbed the boy by his shirt collar and lifted him straight off the ground, shaking him roughly for good measure. Kamio released the firm grip of his right hand and brought the arm back. I knew he was going to strike Kirihara and I couldn't let that happen. As much suffering as he may have caused me, I hadn't been innocent when it can to inflicting him pain.

"Stop!" I cried. "Please Kamio-kun, put him down and walk away. I don't want to see any more suffering!"

I could see my friend hesitating. His fist trembled in midair and I could sense its need to strike Kirihara's face. Unexpectedly, a sneer curled over the devil's face.

"Hit me," he said.

"What!" Kamio and I exclaimed simultaneously.

"Hit me," the Rikkaidai boy dared again. "I don't want your sympathy Tachibana. It'd rather be punched in the face than pitied by you."

The hot headed Kamio took the challenge seriously and, ignoring my pleas, shocked Kirihara squarely in the jaw, then dropped him carelessly to the group. I rushed forward to help the wounded tennis player but before I got far he screamed at me, "Stay away! I told you I don't want your mercy!"

Stunned, I stopped. I looked down at the fallen Kirihara. He turned his eyes away. Slowly and unsteadily he rose and retreated towards the infirmary.

"Let's go An-chan," Kamio suggested. As I watched the curly black haired head lope away I couldn't help but wonder in how many ways I misunderstood Kirihara Akaya.


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