Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis would never belong to me

Chapter 4: Another day

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Blinking sleep from his eyes, he straightened, or tried to.

The baby had apparently found his hair appealing, for her hands were messily tangled up in his brown soft locks.

Reaching slowly behind, he pried the tiny fingers open. Finally after some work, his hair regained its freedom. Sighing at the soreness of his scalp, he stood up.

He knew that Tezuka had left; he felt the emptiness he always felt when Tezuka wasn't with him.

Seeing the baby was still asleep, he went to wash up a little. Tugging the curtains closed, he collected his documents and packed them into his overnight bag.

Checking the time and finding out that he still have two hours before having to report to work, he decided to buy some necessities for the little girl first.

Scooping the soft little being who was still dressed in her yesterday overalls, he reasoned that clothes and food would be first priorities.

He closed the door behind him after checking the room one last time. It had become his habit, to check the room before and after going into it.

As was his habit, he moved out from the rear exit. He knew that the members who were staying in for their trainings would be in the living room, waiting for breakfast. He didn't want to see them and be remembered of the fact that he was living with this group of people whose lives were twisted with painful memories, not after a mission.

When he was out, he headed straight for his car, parked in the lots specially allocated for the members.

He stopped short when he saw a slight figure leaning against his car.

"Fuji-senpai"

"Ryoma"

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Shrugging into a light crisp shirt, he moved towards the window. His brain was a little fuzzy from the lack of sleep, but his face didn't betray a trace of it. He was used to looking unemotional and even when he was alone; he didn't dare to let that mask slip.

Looking down from his window, he could catch a little corner of the car park while the garden separating the hall from the back gates dominated his view.

He knew Fuji would be there, it was his habit to leave by the back door and it was his habit to send him off from his room.

When Fuji stopped abruptly with the little girl in his arms, a small alarm went off in his head. He was talking to someone, but Tezuka couldn't see that person. Hoping that the other party would come in view soon, he continued to watch while he buttoned up his shirt quickly.

Even from his room, he could clearly see the change in Fuji as he spoke to the hidden person. His shoulders tensed slightly and his smile disappeared.

Tucking his shirt in quickly, he moved towards the door, picking his coat on the way out, he let it fall over his lean body, smoothing it with a few quick tugs.

Walking down the corridor which is only open to assassins above specialist, he moved quickly out. Ignoring the people in the living room, and the greetings he was out of the house.

He was a little too late, the moment he was near the car park, Fuji's car was already gone and the other person was gone as well. He could use his power to find out who the other person was, but to use it within the compound was prohibited.

Turning away, he moved to his own car, his position in his company allowed him to take leave whenever he wanted, but he was too responsible to push his work off like that.

Accelerating swiftly, he maneuvered his car out of the well-guarded headquarters. Taking a few turns and he was near the main gates, presenting his AID( assassin identification document) and his fingerprints, he was then allowed to leave.

The day was still early and the road was almost empty. He let his reflexes take over while he moved to the rear of his consciousness for a quick rest. But the morning event still lingered clearly in his mind. Whatever it was that caused Fuji to be uneasy must be something serious, for that one assassin was not easily flustered.

At a junction, he took a turn, his senses completely back in working. If he had continued down the road, he would have reached his apartment faster, but he would go by a cemetery.

You are pathetic, it had been so long and you still haven't garnered enough courage to even go near that place?

They were there, they were all there, waiting for you, waiting for their revenge, why didn't you go there?

Kuni-chan…

That voice, which always sang him lullaby and soothed him when he was upset, that voice which was accompanied by all the love in the world, the voice so familiar and yet sometimes in his dreams sounded so foreign as it ended in screams, the voice that reminded him constantly to move on, yet the screams in his dreams told him otherwise. It torn him apart, that voice, never giving him peace.

Oka-san

Stopping abruptly on the road, he lowered his head on the steering wheel. For a moment, he allowed his pain to overwhelm him. It washed over him, reminding him of the past, the past that never allowed him to move on; the past that couldn't be changed.

Forcefully collecting himself, he tucked the past into the back of his mind. Dropping his mask back in place, he once again moved on, but his heart and soul lingered behind, along with the dust of the past and the remains of his once bright future.

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He walked back into the compound once Fuji drove off, stepping quickly behind a bush, he waited till Tezuka finished surveying the grounds and left as well.

Tugging his new cap further down his head, he stepped out of his hiding place. Rubbing his hand absently over his right shoulder, he went back to his room. His little talk with Fuji had awakened something he would rather stay asleep.

When he was safe within his room in the headquarters, he tugged off his shirt. Throwing it haphazardly on the carpeted floor, he sank wearily into his bed. Rubbing his eyes, he winced at the soreness.

Last night he didn't dare to sleep. He didn't dare to close his eyes, he couldn't bear to see the faces of his now-dead family, he couldn't bear to hear them crying out in pain, he couldn't bear to face the fact he had yet to avenge their deaths; he couldn't bear to let go.

Running his hand over his shoulder where his skin wasn't smooth, but scarred with thin lines which were bestowed to him, reminding him that he had more than his family to avenge, to completely put his pain and past to rest, he must go against the entire government.

Turning to his side, he stared blankly out of the window. Trembling slightly, he was once again forced to step into his past. The moment his mind wasn't focused on missions or school, his past would tightened its hold on him and bring him back to where it hurt most.

Ka-san, if only I hadn't left you that day, perhaps then all these wouldn't have happened.

He could remember that day so clearly, as if it was etched deep into his mind, with all the blood that was spilled, with all the screams he heard and the smiling forgiveness on his mother's last breath, the last gentle touch of his father's hand and the love that wasn't killed by the murderers.

Perhaps it was the fact that his parents weren't angry at him, perhaps it was the fact that his parents still loved him despite of his fault, perhaps it was that love that pushed him to revenge.

For so long now, he had pushed himself, well over his limits, to polish his skills, to be cold and cruel. Whenever his body screamed at him to stop the torture, his mind would quietly remind him of the fact that it was his fault that his parents died. And he would forget the pain and agony his body was going through, forget everything except that he must work harder, he must win, he must kill the people who had killed his parents and killed the Ryoma Echizen he once was but would never return to now.

"Ryoma, come back now, it's time for dinner!"

"Let's play for awhile, boy"

"Remember to bring Karupin's toy down"

"Good night Ryoma, I love you too"

Pressing his hands over his ears, he thrashed in his bed. Moaning in pain, he tried to escape from the pain and memories he knew that would never extract its claws from his life.

His mouth opened in a silent scream as the memories of his past came relentlessly back to taunt him of all he had lost. Almost to the point of begging the past to let go of him, he wrapped his hands around his chest.

The pain, it was ripping his heart apart, desperate to come out, desperate to be free, to scream its presence to the world.

"Oyaji, Ka-san, gomen nasai" he sobbed quietly into the pillow.

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Eiji stopped outside the room, he was about to go ask Ryoma out for a quick match.

Hearing the sobs with his superb hearing, he knew that Ryoma had once again sunk into the quicksand of his past. Deciding that it would only embarrass the boy to have someone witness his pain, he lowered his hand from the knob.

Sighing inwardly, he mused thoughtfully.

Everyone in ShiniNingyoo had their painful past; it was clear in their relentless training, the death that shone so clearly in their eyes and the silent agony they suffered when they thought no one was looking.

Yet this boy whom he had came to know and liked since the moment he laid eyes on him, had more than his share of pain.

It was the first time he saw such intense sorrow in a person's eyes, apart from Tezuka and Fuji, but they found some relief within one another. For this boy, it was as if the demon of the past was trapped within, waiting for a chance to rip the boy apart and emerge.

The kind of grief that practically swallowed the boy with its dark strands of anguish, threatening anyone who dared to come near him, it isolated him.

For a while last night, when Ryoma was carrying the little girl, Eiji saw a little crack, a little reprieve. As if the girl's smile had reached out to the boy and swiped away some clouds that always shrouded him, he smiled like the boy he once was.

Eiji knew that he didn't have the authority to advice the boy, for he himself, had his own deal of pain. Shaking the negative thoughts away, he refused to give in to the call of his past.

He wanted revenge, very much, almost as much as Fuji, but at the same time, he wanted to forget, to move on, to stop reliving his past and to live again, like a human.

He was once a cold-blooded assassin bent on getting his revenge; his blood-thirst rivaled and even out-matched Fuji's. Yet one person had slipped through all the silliness he had put up as a wall and saw his true pain and helped him face his past.

Oishi, the trustworthy mother among them, he had always been there for him. He had always been teaching him new things, things that truly mattered.

He taught him what could be let go and what must be held on.

He taught him that love needed two hearts.

He taught him how to love.

Now he hoped that someone would teach their boy the power of love and one day he would heal more than what revenge could give him.

Perhaps the little girl would be the key to open up the door that locked the true Ryoma Echizen within.

For now, all he could do was to let him cry his pain out and then rebuild the façade that protected him from falling apart.

Gambatte Ochibi!

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