Chapter Five: Calling On You

Disclaimer: I still don't own Prince of Tennis. Which sucks.

Author's Note: Here's chapter five! Have fun! Remember, the complete Author's Note for this fic is posted in chapter one. But here are the warnings, summarized for your convenience: May contain spoilers/ shonen-ai/ not-shonen-ai/ please review/ Tezuka makes flamers run laps. Lol.

Wow, thanks so much to all of my reviewers! And to all of you out there who don't have accounts, but are reading anyway. I love you all, and I really appreciate your patience with me. Especially big thanks to Iruka-chan2, whose review for chapter 4 absolutely floored me. I'm so honored! (bows low) I hope the story is all you could hope for! I'm getting a little nervous, though. I sure have lots of people who are very passionate about who Ryoma will end up with. Whoo boy... Well, I can't give that away yet, but I'm thrilled that people even care! So thanks, very much, all of you! Enjoy the much-deserved chapter, and let me know what you think. Thanks so much, everyone:)

I was a rock that was split into two.

I am an angel that has fallen from grace.

I will be a liar who always hides behind a mask.

That is who I was. Who I am. Who I will be.

Can you stop me from splitting? From falling? From hiding?

Can you save me?

…

A black-haired, mild-mannered young man looked outside the tiny window that was now his only glimpse into the outside world. All he could see was a gaping black darkness, which had been the only thing outside that window for the past hour. He knew that somewhere far above his head was an entire channel of water, but it was a fact that didn't quite register in his brain, somehow. Either way, it wasn't particularly important.

It especially wasn't important, given that he'd already made this particular trip dozens of times in the past year alone. Still, no matter how many times he took the train underneath the English Channel en route to France, he remained painfully aware that the trip was almost surreal, like a complete disconnect from reality.

A complete disconnect from reality.

The more he thought about it, the more Oishi Shuichiroh decided that phrase described his whole state of existence at that exact moment in time.

He was a student at the prestigious Oxford University, but that fact was just something that he mentioned in conversations. He lived it merely as a detached person might watch a silent film, only vaguely comprehending that it was even happening in the first place.

And outside of his life as a student, he was nothing.

But it was better than being connected with reality, really. At least, it was better than the reality he was trying to forget, the one he had left behind the instant he'd accepted the scholarship to study abroad.

Yes, anything was better than that. Even a black and white film that melted into darkness when he looked outside the window.

Oishi shifted in his seat, putting a hand to his chest hesitantly. There was that thrumming again. His heartbeat had gotten into a rather unpleasant habit of shifting pace at random lately, a habit that Oishi already knew was linked to the pitch black liquid shimmering in the cup in front of him.

I really need to lay off the caffeine.

His train of thought was interrupted by a beeping sound. His hands fingered his cell phone, flipping it open with a smooth gesture. His eyes ran over the text on the screen.

A message?

He put the phone to his ear, after dialing the number for his voice-mail. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to hear, but he was decidedly disappointed by the mundane request from a college buddy for copies of class notes.

I don't know why I keep thinking it could be from him.

Even if that particular message had been disappointing, Oishi couldn't help thinking of another phone call he'd just received that had literally jolted him out of his disconnected existence…

"Hello? This is Oishi."

"Oishi-senpai, I'm so glad you picked up!"

"Momo? Why are you calling? Isn't it three in the morning over there?"

"Oishi-senpai, you'll never believe what's happened. Not in a million years!"

Oishi decidedly frowned, remembering the conversation that had followed. It was good news, of course. It was good news for Momo, and for Taka, and for everyone else back at home. Yes, it was a good thing that Ryoma had come back to Japan, even if it had taken him five years, even if it was out of the blue.

But what it meant for those he had decided to confront with the news, he couldn't say. It could mean a complete disaster, if Fuji reacted the way Oishi figured he would…

Either way, he knew it was something that Tezuka should know. And there was only one way to find Tezuka, and he wasn't about to play games over the phone with the only person who would know his current location.

No, he was going to Paris on the morning express, and that was that.

But really, he didn't know why he felt, somewhere deep inside, that this news could change something. Nothing was going to change. Especially not for Oishi himself.

No, there's nothing for me now but this disconnect.

But that was my choice.

Oishi Shuichiroh sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He tried to remember what that face used to look like… that passionate twelve-year-old with those golden eyes that were so much like Tezuka's.

- - - - - - -

"Love is the most beautiful of all the deathless gods."

Slim, elegant fingers slid across a smooth page of text, tracing the black ink slowly, as if revealing a pattern.

"He makes men weak, he overpowers the clever mind, and tames the spirit in the breasts of men and gods."

A frustrated sigh came from a pair of pale lips, and two delicate hands closed the book tightly.

"Love makes men weak, hmm?"

Two strikingly blue eyes opened wide and then narrowed as the mouth repeated the thought.

"That's true enough… but it isn't true for gods."

Fuji Shusuke threw the book aside and got up from the chair in which he'd been reading his philosophy homework. He rarely did his assignments in any case, and he wasn't about to pore over such an absurd text, especially not one that irritated him for reasons even he could hardly explain.

"Hesiod, huh? Much he knows about gods." His expression was almost disgusted, as if he'd just had a taste of something that he had forgotten he hated. He paced around his cluttered desk, lapsing into a darkened train of thought that remained unspoken.

He was startled out of his stormy reverie, however, by the sound of a phone ringing.

"Hello?" he said into the receiver, with that voice that sounded like liquid silk.

He listened for a moment, his temporary smile fading back into a frown.

"Oh, Oishi. I didn't expect you'd be calling."

Another pause.

"You're where? Why did you come here all of a sudden? I thought you had that summer seminary."

Suddenly his eyes opened wide.

"What did you say? … I see. How… unexpected. No, he's here. Yes, I know. Don't say that. Fine, you can come here, if that's what you're asking. Alright, soon."

With that, Fuji hung up the phone again, and his expression became completely unreadable, even to the silent shadows that danced among the sunlight pouring through the window.

"I can't believe he finally came back." Something like a smirk slid across his lips, but his eyes betrayed a more conflicted state of mind. A hint of regret had clouded over that sharp cerulean blue in his eyes, dimming their light for an instant.

"What poor timing you have, Echizen," he finally murmured, softly, as if afraid of breaking something.

"It's too late for that, after all."

- - - - - - -

Echizen Ryoma looked at the door one more time. He looked down at his hand, pausing to read the scrawl again. He looked up again at the plate on the door. He looked back down at his hand.

Yes, this was definitely the place. This was the address for Eiji and Momo's apartment.

So why was no one answering the door?

Sighing, he tried knocking one more time. He was starting to wonder if his friends' neighbors would know he was in the hallway sooner than they would.

"Kikumaru-senpai!" he called, attempting to project his voice through the door. "Momo-sen---"

He was interrupted by the door swinging wide open right in front of his face, and by the rather unexpected sight of Momo in nothing but his boxers.

"M-Momo-senpai---?" he started to say, more as an involuntary response than anything else.

"EIJI-SENPAI!" Momo was ignoring Echizen entirely for the moment, his head turned back inside the apartment as he yelled at the top of his lungs. "YOU SHOULD SAY SOMETHING WHEN YOU CAN'T ANSWER THE DOOR!"

"WHAT---?" was the equally loud response, somewhat muffled.

"I SAID, YOU SHOULD SAY SOMETHING WHEN YOU WANT ME TO ANSWER THE DOOR!"

"I'M IN THE SHOWER, YOU MORON! WHAT DID YOU THINK I WAS GOING TO DO, ANSWER THE DOOR COMPLETELY NAKE---"

"I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE IN THE SHOWER!" Momo hollered, interrupting his senpai's rant. He finally turned his head back toward Echizen and said, in a voice that was almost unrecognizable from the one he had just been using, "Hey, Echizen! Come on in!"

Ryoma wasn't sure whether he should be shocked at his friend's disheveled appearance, amazed by the powerful demonstration of vocal chords he'd just witnessed, or simply nonchalant and take the whole thing as a matter of course.

He decided in the end to do as was suggested and just enter the apartment.

"Sorry about the mess," Momo apologized as he walked back through the tiny hallway that led to the front room. "We haven't cleaned much."

"No kidding," was Ryoma's only comment as he gazed at the various piles of debris spread across what he guessed had once served as furniture. He could identify some of the objects as books, articles of clothing, and various household items. But as to what some of those things were, or had once been, he wasn't sure he wanted to discover.

With surprising speed, Momo swept nearly everything off of what became a couch and a few chairs, and gestured toward the former. "You can sit down, if you want. I'll be back in a second."

"Um… alright," consented Ryoma, still feeling somewhat disconcerted by the fact that he was conversing with a friend wearing nothing but his underwear. The discomfort lessened when Momo disappeared down a side passageway, but Ryoma couldn't help wondering for a split second if his senpai had always had such toned muscles.

He interrupted his own train of thought and started looking around the apartment. Besides the obvious mess, he began to notice some things that surprised him. One was the presence of several tennis magazines spread out on a coffee table in front of him, all of which had photos of himself on the cover. Another was the presence of a litter box in a corner by the kitchenette.

And then there was that collection of photographs on a shelf directly across from where he was sitting. He squinted at them, unable to quench his curiosity as to what they might be, until he finally got up from the couch and walked toward the shelf.

What he saw made him stand completely still, entranced by the images.

There, right in front of his eyes, was a visual timeline of the past five years, and of years before he had even met his friends, captured between sheets of paper and glass. There were pictures of his senpais when they had been twelve, looking no bigger than Ryoma had felt when standing among them during his first year of middle school. And there were also a few pictures from the times he could remember, including a copy of that one photo… It was the photo from the day they had climbed that mountain together and watched the sun come up. He still had that particular photo himself, and he smiled for a moment at the memory.

But the other photos were what really caught his attention.

There were pictures of some of his senpais in blue and black tennis uniforms, standing for what Ryoma guessed must have been team photos for high school. There were also several shots of his former teammates in various places he recognized, but those teammates looked almost like strangers to his unaccustomed eyes. And one particular image simply wouldn't let him look away once he noticed it.

It was a picture of three young men standing against the railing of what appeared to be a boat or ferry of some kind. They were looking into the sun, with the sea at their backs, and all three of them were smiling… But each of their smiles was very different.

And Ryoma got the sudden feeling that each of those smiles held a certain kind of pain.

On the left was Oishi, former vice captain of the Seigaku junior high tennis club. He was older now, and Ryoma thought he noticed a kind of weariness in his senpai's face that was unfamiliar to him. One of Oishi's arms was lying across the railing, with his hand disappearing behind the middle figure's back. His other hand was hidden in his pocket. His head was turned slightly away from the camera, as if he'd been distracted by something a moment before, but his eyes were staring straight at the lens. Those eyes seemed strangely dull to Ryoma, looking almost colorless and nothing like the green eyes that he remembered. Oishi's smile was quiet, but almost tense, as if he was painfully aware of something he didn't like and was trying to hide it for the moment.

On the right was Fuji, Ryoma realized, and the mere sight of what the tensai of his memory had become would have been enough to startle anyone. Ryoma didn't know much about aesthetics or beauty, but even he could recognize that Fuji had become stunningly attractive within the space of five years. His senpai was leaning with his elbows on the railing, which would have made anyone but Fuji look extremely relaxed and casual. The tensai, however, taking this position, looked as grand as a marble statue and as graceful as a model. His head was slightly tilted to one side, but his eyes, as always, were hidden by his eyelids, which Ryoma remembered the tensai using as something like a mask to hide his expression. The way Fuji's good looks in a still photograph already demanded immediate admiration made Ryoma wonder what his senpai must look like with those shockingly blue eyes open, much less closed. But even in his awe at his former teammate's appearance, Ryoma thought he noticed that Fuji's smile held a kind of ironic bitterness, as though he was painfully aware that all the good looks in the world couldn't get him just anything he wanted.

The last figure that Ryoma looked at, the one in the middle, was the one that he recognized with the least difficulty. That was Tezuka, former captain of Seigaku, the man who had soundly defeated Ryoma and forced him to take his tennis to a whole new level during junior high. At the mere sight of the person that had constantly remained somewhere in the back of his mind for five long years, Ryoma felt his heart speed up. Tezuka had hardly changed at all. He was still that imposing, handsome figure from junior high, taller than his two companions, with a face that demanded respect. But upon a closer look, Ryoma found that there was something about this picture of the captain that didn't make sense to him. He stood, as one might have expected, completely straight, with his arms folded. That much was just like before. His eyes had taken ahold of the light and gleamed behind two glinting lenses. That, too, was exactly like Ryoma remembered. And his smile, such as it was, was slight and firm, as if it was a deep regret for him to be compelled to smile at all. Even this seemed to fit with Ryoma's memories of the imposing captain he had known.

But what was that look behind those eyes? There was something in Tezuka's expression that wasn't right. It wasn't like Tezuka at all. It was in his face, too, now that Ryoma thought about it. And he thought he saw it even in the captain's posture, in the way he was crossing those arms, in the way he was standing so straight.

And now that he noticed it, that thing he couldn't quite recognize, the entire figure that had been Tezuka Kunimitsu looked nothing like him at all.

But what was that thing?

It was… it was…

"Sorry about the wait, Echizen!" A voice startled Ryoma out of his thoughts. He turned to see a more properly-dressed Momo coming out of the side passage. He was closely followed by Eiji, who was still drying his hair with a towel but was nevertheless also suitably clothed.

"It's okay," Ryoma replied, shrugging a little. He felt almost dazed, as though for a moment he had been somewhere else, far away.

"Hey, Ochibi, what were you---?" Eiji came up alongside Ryoma, but one glance toward the shelf answered his own question. Momo, too, seemed to instantly understand what had been gripping Ryoma's attention for the past few minutes.

"It's a good photo, isn't it?" he said quietly, staring at the picture for a moment. Ryoma stared with him, unable to take his eyes off of it.

"Yes…" he agreed slowly, unsure what to say. He wanted to say something, wanted to ask something… But he couldn't find the words.

It was Eiji who broke the silence, sounding almost strangely lighthearted.

"So, where do you guys want to go for lunch?"

Momo decidedly frowned, Ryoma noticed, but only for an instant before he answered in an equally cheerful voice, "I've got something of an idea. Want to go right now?"

"Sure," Ryoma replied finally, noticing that there was clearly something strange in the way his friends regarded the picture. He decided not to mention it for the moment, thinking that it would be better to ask about it later.

"Let's go, then!" Eiji exclaimed, with a wide gesture that indicated it was time to exit the apartment.

And with that, the three left the photograph behind, which had just begun to catch the light that was streaming through a nearby window. The gleam that shone across the glass gave the picture an almost ethereal look for a moment, one that concealed the three faces in a sheer brightness. And then, almost as instantly, the gentle breeze outside made the light shift behind some tree branches, and the picture was enveloped in shadow.

- - - - - - -

Fuji had slipped into a blank trance, thinking of something that was almost nothing, when he was startled by the sound of a bell. He stopped pacing aimlessly around the front room and went to answer the door, looking almost expectant.

"Ah, Oishi, it's you," he said, sounding rather disappointed.

"Yes," was all that his former classmate offered in response as he passed through the doorway. With a certain level of familiarity, Oishi set his travel bag aside and started looking around the room, as if studying it.

"You don't look well," Fuji mentioned offhandedly, an almost smug look on his face.

"You say that every time you see me," was Oishi's curt answer. He started walking around the apartment purposefully, glancing toward a cupboard by the dining area. He began fiddling around with the doors, opening and closing them, as though searching for something. In the process, he sniffed once or twice, like he smelled something in the air.

"You look worse every time I see you," retorted Fuji, even though he guessed, correctly, that Oishi wasn't listening by this point.

Oishi reached into one of the higher compartments and pulled out a small bottle.

"Fuji, you know what I told you before. You have to stop," he said, every word full of a sharp kind of significance.

The tensai rolled his eyes, which had remained open the entire time, in all their shining blue glory.

"And you say that every time you come here," was Fuji's only reply, said with the slightest toss of his head. Every gesture suggested nothing but the highest disdain towards Oishi's scolding.

"Besides," he continued. "That's just how it is. That's why you live in England and why I live in Paris. And I get along just fine, I might add… unlike some people."

The last phrase was said with the most pointed kind of emphasis as Fuji stared right into Oishi's eyes. The former vice captain met his stare for a moment, but he looked away quickly.

"I get along just fine myself. And I don't need liquor and cigarettes to do it."

"Really?" Fuji was certainly smirking now, with the most beautifully diabolic look on his face. "You aren't forgetting your caffeine addiction, are you?"

He took several steps toward Oishi and grabbed him by the wrist, but Oishi didn't even flinch.

"You must have had a double shot on your way over," was Fuji's sarcastic comment. "Your hand's shaking."

There was a moment of silence, a painful moment full of something they both already understood.

"You know why," Oishi said at last.

"And you know why."

With that, Fuji released his colleague's arm and walked away, looking almost frustrated.

"You're here to tell him, aren't you?" was Fuji's question after a minute ticked away.

"Yes." Oishi was shutting the cabinet slowly, as though he didn't notice himself doing it. "I figured you probably wouldn't tell him, even if I asked you to."

There was a strange laugh from Fuji, one that sounded startlingly tense, perhaps even faintly maniacal.

"You're probably right."

His mood changed instantly, and the face of Fuji Shusuke became dark, even angry.

"Well, it will ruin everything. But I'll let you tell him, not that you'd give me a choice, of course."

Before Oishi could respond, there was the sudden sound of a door opening. They both looked to see a tall figure coming through the doorway slowly, as if very tired.

"Tezuka," they both said at once, the tension in the room momentarily forgotten.

The former captain of Seigaku looked at Oishi, and then Fuji. And then, just as slowly, Tezuka Kunimitsu closed the door behind him, and sighed.

- end of chapter five -

Useless Footnote: I'm not sure what the standard is for this sort of thing, but during Fuji's first scene, he quotes from Hesiod's The Theogeny. (Hesiod was from ancient Greece and wrote all about the gods from mythology.) So, yeah, that's not mine, lol.

A/N: Aw, man, it's another cliffhanger! I'm so evil! XD Sorry about that, you guys! But the next chapter will be up around the beginning of this weekend. I promise! My goal is to release at least two chapters over Labor Day weekend, since you guys have been so amazing (and I feel bad torturing you with the suspense!). This chapter was a challenge to write, but it was fun. I might note that I'm trying desperately to keep these three characters, err, in character, even though all three of them have been through a lot since Ryoma left. Let me know if I fail horribly at that at any point, lol. And if you still have no clue what's going on, fear not! I promise it'll make sense sooner or later! … Err, hopefully sooner. The best news? Some actual character interaction is coming up. Really! I promise! XD And… if anyone reading this thought I was trying to make Fuji sound evil… I'm sorry! I love Fuji! Really! You'll get an explanation soon.

Well, I hope you enjoyed it, and let me know what you thought of chapter five!

Coming Up Next: Tezuka finds out about the news that Echizen has returned to Japan, and makes a decision. Meanwhile, Ryoma confronts Eiji and Momo about what happened while he was away. Finally, it's time to introduce the last two Regulars who haven't shown up yet!