Chapter Twelve: Bet Your Heart
Disclaimer: I still don't own Prince of Tennis. … as you may have already guessed.
Author's Note: Here's chapter twelve! 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/flamers don't get to drink Ponta. Lol.
Wow, chapter twelve already? I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks again so much to ALL my wonderful reviewers… You guys are awesome. I can't tell you how much you encourage me to keep this story going! XD Special thanks as always to chibiukyou, whose reviews never fail to crack me up, and also to Fubaki Sakura, who won't be able to read this until she gets back from her trip. (I hope you like it when you do get to read it!) Let me know what you all think of chapter twelve!
"Please don't leave me."
That was all I really wanted to say.
I never even realized it, until I thought I would lose you forever…
It was the hope that I'd see you again that kept me alive.
…
Eiji was already on the phone within a minute of their arrival at the apartment. Momo had set his senpai down on the couch, keeping his head as level with his body as possible. Ryoma just watched while his former teammates bustled around the room, first grabbing a blanket, now soaking a rag in cool water, then hanging up the phone…
"Who did you call, Kikumaru-senpai?" Ryoma was somewhat confused.
"Oh, just Oishi's uncle," Eiji replied quickly, glancing in Ryoma's direction. "I asked him what to do… He's going to come by here tomorrow if Oishi isn't much better by then."
"Oishi's uncle?" Ryoma repeated.
"He's a doctor," Eiji explained briefly, picking up the blanket.
There was a pause as Ryoma thought for a moment. Eiji shook out the blanket and spread it over his unconscious friend. Ryoma couldn't help noticing that Eiji's eyes looked much softer now, as though the reality of Oishi's condition had melted the coldness out of them.
"Kikumaru-senpai, you're calling him 'Oishii' again," Ryoma observed at last, very quietly.
At first, Eiji didn't respond, but then he sighed and said, "It's not important."
"Yes, it is."
Ryoma was so quick to protest that he caught the attention of both Eiji and Momo, both of whom looked rather perplexed.
"What do you mean, Ochibi?" Eiji asked, blinking.
Ryoma looked over at Oishi, who was breathing softly and had a very calm expression on his pale face.
"It's very important. Especially to Oishi-senpai, I'm sure," Ryoma answered calmly, taking a few steps closer to where the former captain lay. He was still looking down at those closed eyes, and noticing how the lines had smoothed out of that forehead that only an hour ago had been knit together with a thousand worries.
"Kikumaru-senpai, Oishi-senpai really cares about you."
At that, Ryoma looked up again, firmly gazing into Eiji's dark blue eyes.
"Don't ever forget that, okay?"
For a moment, Eiji seemed as though he was about to protest this assertion, but then he just nodded and murmured, "Okay. I won't."
"We should get going, Momo-senpai," Ryoma said suddenly, turning to his other former teammate.
"We should---?" Momo looked as though he didn't follow Ryoma's train of thought at first, but then he smiled knowingly. "Oh, you're right. We should. You're okay by yourself, right, Eiji-senpai?"
At first, Eiji looked like he was anything but okay, as though the idea of being alone with an unconscious Oishi scared him all of a sudden. But then he took a deep breath and nodded.
"Sure, I'll be okay. I'll call you if anything happens."
"Please do, Eiji-senpai."
And with that, both Ryoma and Momo walked out the door, with the latter giving his roommate a cheerful wave as he left. As they started down the hallway to the elevator, Momo couldn't resist giving Ryoma a conspiring grin and a nudge on the shoulder.
"You troublemaker! You planned that, didn't you?"
"I didn't plan it exactly," Ryoma replied slowly, smiling just a little bit. "But they need to be alone for awhile. And I'm sure there's no one else Oishi-senpai would rather be with, anyway."
"And how do you know that?" Momo demanded, raising an eyebrow.
"It's a secret," Ryoma said in a light, knowing tone that was tantalizingly annoying.
"You little brat," was all Momo could say to that, but he honestly couldn't wipe the grin off of his face.
Really, what a guy…
No, really, what a guy.
- - - - - - - - -
Tezuka was sitting, blankly staring into space, hardly comprehending all the noise around him. Something inside him couldn't forget that look on Oishi's face, when he'd been lying there on the pavement, unconscious. It sent a shudder through his mind, one full of irrational fear.
I wonder if that was how Oishi felt when I was lying there, on that night…
He knew he shouldn't be thinking about that, of course. He hadn't thought about it for the longest time, until only two days ago when Oishi had told him the news, that Echizen had returned to Japan. And now he couldn't get it off his mind.
It's because I have to tell him. Sooner or later, he's going to ask…
… And then I'll have to tell him…
"Tezuka?" He felt slender fingers pressing against his hand, and looked up to see Fuji's usual mask of an expression smiling at him. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm… worried about Oishi," Tezuka managed at last, swallowing hard, wishing that Fuji would stop smiling already when he knew it was so ridiculously fake.
"About Oishi? He'll be fine. Eiji's with him now." Fuji slipped a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and grasped one of the papery rolls between his thumb and index finger.
"Unlike when he was with you, you know," the tensai added in a low tone, flicking the tip of his lighter and catching the flame on the end of the cigarette. "You couldn't do anything for him."
"I know that," Tezuka muttered back, only to be interrupted by Taka, who was sitting across from them in the long restaurant-style booth.
"Um, Fuji?"
"Yes, Taka-san?" Fuji asked innocently as he put the cigarette to his mouth and took a deep breath, exhaling the smoke from between his lips, as though he were kissing the air.
"Do you… I mean, that is… Well, when did you start smoking, anyway?" Taka finally managed, stammering and looking decidedly uncomfortable.
"Ah, this?" Fuji chuckled lightly. "Since I went over to Paris. Everyone does it over there, you know."
"It's still extremely unhealthy," Inui observed frankly, frowning and waving his hand in front of his nose, trying to ward off the smoke.
Fuji laughed again, lightly, much too lightly.
"I beg your pardon. But we are in a bar, you know."
"You mean, there is a bar in here," Inui corrected, glancing around him. It was true, granted. There was a bar at the other end of the restaurant, but for the most part, it was just a regular dining place.
"Anyway, I asked for the smoking section," Fuji protested, sounding oddly carefree.
"I think the whole place is a smoking section," Inui mumbled, subsiding into silence. He was presently thinking that Kaidoh had the right idea when he had escaped by excusing himself to the restroom.
"Oh, look, they've returned," Fuji suddenly remarked, his smile widening into a sparkling grin. He waved, gesturing the newcomers over. "Echizen! Momoshiro! We're over here!"
"Um, hey, Fuji-senpai," Momo replied, taking a look around. "Interesting choice for dinner."
"Oh, I hope you don't mind," Fuji said pleasantly. "I wanted to come here for old time's sake."
He paused for a moment, savoring the unspoken question that was hanging on everyone's lips.
"This was the first place that I got dead drunk, after all."
Priceless, really. They all look so shocked.
"Um… come again, Fuji-senpai?" Momo was frowning. He didn't like the way that smile on Fuji's face had suddenly become almost gleeful.
"Oh, it's nothing," Fuji said somewhat dismissively, taking another draught from the smoldering cigarette. "Everyone does a few stupid things when they're a teenager, right?"
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Oh…" Fuji spoke up again as though he'd just remembered something. "I guess that's not quite true."
He looked straight at Ryoma, opening his eyes and sending an electric blue shock through the younger boy's veins.
"I'm sure Echizen has never done a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g stupid," he corrected himself in a singsong voice. "Right, Echizen?"
"Fuji-senpai, what are you---"
But before Ryoma could actually reply to the tensai's strange question, Momo interrupted with a firm, "Well, why don't we sit down?"
"Please do."
At that reponse from Fuji, Momo squeezed into one side of the booth, with Ryoma sliding in on the other side.
"Is Oishi alright?" Taka asked quietly, completely changing the subject.
"Yeah, he should be fine," Momo answered readily, giving his friend a cheerful smile. "He was breathing normally when we left, and he looked better already. I think he's just tired. Eiji's keeping an eye on him now."
"That's good," Taka said, replying to Momo's smile with one of his own. Ryoma couldn't help noticing the look that passed between them, and he wondered if maybe his former teammates had already guessed at what Ryoma knew to be the truth.
It would be like Taka-san and Momo-senpai to already know…
… They've always been really good friends to everyone.
Ryoma found himself getting lost in thought for a moment, and so he was startled when Inui nudged him on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, Echizen. Would you mind letting me out for a moment?"
"Ah, sure…" At that, Ryoma slid back out of the booth and stood aside as his senpai got up and walked toward the back of the restaurant.
"He's probably going to find Kaidoh," Fuji observed smugly. "Since after all he's been 'in the restroom' for over twenty minutes."
"That doesn't surprise me," Momo commented dryly, wrinkling his nose at the cloud of smoke that was lingering around the table.
"Oh, you still know him so well, Momo? Now that surprises me," Fuji remarked, blowing the smoke out from his mouth again almost spitefully.
"What is that supposed to mean?" demanded Momo, looking right at Fuji.
"Nothing in particular. Say, Taka-san, would you mind playing a game with me?"
"Huh?" Taka glanced toward where Fuji was gesturing, and noticed the billiard table over by the bar. "Oh, at billiards? Well, I don't know…"
"Oh, come on, it will be fun! Let's go!" And Fuji crushed the tip of the cigarette between his fingers and carelessly dropped it in the ashtray in front of him.
When the minor confusion that ensued had subsided, Ryoma found himself sitting directly across from both Tezuka and Momo, with an unusually awkward kind of silence hanging in the air. Tezuka watched the cigarette in the ashtray absently, watching as the grayish white smoke curled upward above their heads.
"You know," Momo said finally, looking at Ryoma. "I think I'll go give Eiji-senpai a call. I'll be right back, okay?"
He stared very intently into those golden eyes, and Ryoma wondered what it was that he was trying to tell him in that moment…
But he was gone before Ryoma could decide what that look meant.
The tennis star turned back to where Tezuka sat, right in front of him, looking at the smoke.
"Buchou…"
He finally said it, softly, catching the attention of those wandering eyes that gleamed behind two lenses.
"Yes, Echizen?" It was a mundane reply, but there was something in that deep voice that lingered in Ryoma's ears, full of a hidden emotion that Ryoma couldn't quite identify.
"I…" Ryoma began to speak and discovered that he didn't really know what he had been going to say. There was a strange kind of pause, one where their eyes simply stared into each other, searching for something that wasn't really there.
"I need to ask you something," he managed finally, transfixed by those amber eyes that always burned so clearly in his memories.
"I know," Tezuka murmured, to Ryoma's surprise.
In that instant, a slight movement from Tezuka's hand caught Ryoma's eye, a tiny involuntary twitch where the right hand grasped onto the left arm for a moment.
It was then that Ryoma realized that the former captain was wearing long sleeves during summer, very long sleeves that completely covered his arm up to the wrist and were firmly secured with a shirtcuff. Ryoma wondered why he hadn't noticed this before. It seemed odd… very odd…
And then a thought occurred to him.
It was to hide something.
"Buchou, is your arm---?"
Impulsively, Ryoma reached his hand out across the table, toward that left arm… Just as quickly, Tezuka moved and put up his hand to stop him.
Their hands met, and their fingers slid past each other, hanging still in the air. And they just sat there, too stunned to move, hands clasped together over the table.
Some part of Ryoma was trembling, somewhere inside of him, at the electricity he could feel flowing through their fingers. It was frightening, breathtaking, not altogether unpleasant but not quite a nice feeling either…
But when Tezuka's hand shifted, as though he was going to let go, he couldn't help exclaiming, "Don't! … not yet…"
"Echizen…" Tezuka just gazed at the tennis star, a hint of confusion flickering behind his glasses.
…
CLINK! THUNK, THUD.
Fuji grimaced as he watched the cue ball glance off of the eight ball. A terrible shot, of course…
But why would it be a good shot when he could see everything that was going on in that booth? Those looks, the clasped hands…
I knew it.
Momoshiro, you're out of your mind.
He had seen the whole thing, of course. The way Momo dismissed himself from the table, giving Ryoma and Tezuka the chance to be alone. The awkward pause between the two as Ryoma searched for what he wanted to say. And then, that moment, where their hands had touched…
You're a fool, Momo. And don't think I'll let you off easy for it.
It was his turn again. Fuji aimed carefully, a spark in his blue eyes, and angled the shot off the eight ball just right, causing it to collide with the nine ball, which slid as smooth as velvet into the side pocket.
"Well, that's the game," he said cheerfully, hiding his eyes again and smiling at Taka.
"No surprise there," Taka answered good-naturedly, putting away his cuestick. "You're the tensai, after all."
Fuji's smile melted away for a moment, and he actually looked somewhat depressed.
"You're always too kind to me, Taka-san," he murmured, just barely catching his friend's attention.
"Huh? What are you talking about, Fuji?" Taka asked quietly, noticing the tensai's expression with a pang of regret. There was something about the moments, few and far in between though they were, when Fuji allowed his smile to disappear… Those moments always made Taka's heart ache for his friend.
He still remembered other times, long ago, when Fuji had let him see his smile fade away…
He knew, of course. He knew all about the tensai's mask. He knew better than anyone… but it was a secret he never intended to reveal. He was pretty sure that no one else would understand. But even so, lately he couldn't help wishing that he could explain to Echizen what he knew about Fuji…
"It's nothing, really," Fuji answered at last, putting on his smile again. "Do you want to play another round?"
"Ah, that's okay," Taka said slowly. "We should probably be getting back to the others now."
"Mm. You're probably right. You go ahead, Taka-san," Fuji agreed readily enough, absently fingering the chalk and scraping it against the end of his cuestick. "I'll be along in a second."
Taka nodded, and Fuji watched as his friend went to join the other two at the booth. Ryoma and Tezuka had long since let go of each other's hands, but there was a distinct expression of discomfort on both their faces, even as Ryoma tried to make something resembling normal conversation with Taka.
They're so alike. It's ridiculous.
He's just like Tezuka used to be… before everything fell apart…
Damn you for that, Echizen.
Fuji frowned to himself, knowing full well that no one was there to see it.
He didn't like this. He didn't like where this was going at all. He had known it was coming, but he still didn't like it. And that feeling was starting to grasp at his mind and loosen the fragile threads of logic that kept his capacity for rational thought held together.
It was the loosening of those thin strings that was giving those voices the power to speak again, to come through the cloudy fog that usually hung about his thoughts…
You know what's going to happen, don't you?
He's going to take him away from you.
That's right. You're going to lose him.
Just like you lost your little brother…
…
The colors of the room had shifted within Fuji's eyes, and an aura of pure red was melting across Ryoma's face, lending his pure, golden eyes a strangely demonic sparkle.
Fuji tossed the chalk back onto the pool table and replaced the cuestick on the rack, every ounce of tension he was feeling written clearly across his face. And then he took a deep breath, and the threads tightened again, just enough to bind his train of thought together as he watched Momoshiro re-enter the restaurant.
Alright then. Here's my little contribution.
I'll show you what fools you both are.
That's right, Momoshiro. You're first.
…
"Oh, Momo, you're back," a nonchalant voice observed, catching Momo's attention. He turned to see Fuji taking a few steps toward him, with the usual smile on his face.
"Where were you?" that same silky voice asked, in a pleasant tone that didn't fool Momo in the least. He played along anyway, though.
"Ah, I went out to give Eiji a call. He says Oishi still hasn't woken up yet," he explained briefly, shrugging a litte. "I hope he's okay."
"He'll be alright, I'm sure," Fuji responded, letting a vague hint of irony come into his voice. "He's with his Eiji, after all."
For a moment, Momoshiro frowned. He didn't like the sarcasm that had lingered in that comment.
"You sound like you don't like the idea," he observed finally.
"It's not that, exactly." Fuji just waved his hand in a careless gesture, dismissing the accusation. "Oishi just doesn't deserve him, that's all."
"Fuji-senpai, what do you---"
"It doesn't matter," the tensai interrupted lightly. Suddenly, his expression changed completely. His eyes opened, and his smile broke into a shining white grin.
"I believe we have some unfinished business, Momoshiro."
Momo felt himself stiffen, not liking that wild gleam in those eyes, but he met his former teammate's sky blue gaze. It was so strange, to be looking down at someone and to feel as though they were the one looking down at you…
"I guess you're right. Although I still don't know what you meant last night," Momo said slowly, letting his words trail off into nothing.
"What I meant? Well, then, let me explain."
But instead of standing still while giving his reply, the tensai began to walk away, with Momo following him closely, trying to catch what he was saying.
"It's a bet, Momoshiro. A deal, if you will. Since you so obviously want me to stay away from dear little Echizen, I'll comply. If you can beat me, that is," came the dangerously smug explanation, as Fuji stopped in front of the bar counter.
"Beat you? At what?" Momoshiro's confusion remained unanswered, however, as Fuji caught the attention of the bartender and muttered something to him that the younger of the two didn't catch.
"It's a simple contest, that's all. If you win, I won't even go near Echizen without appropriate supervision." Fuji chuckled a little, finding the idea amusing.
"Wait… and if I lose?" Momoshiro asked suddenly, realizing he hadn't heard the other side to the deal.
"If you lose…" Fuji's eyes glinted and bore right into Momoshiro's purple ones. "If you lose, I will do whatever I want with him tonight, and you aren't allowed to stop me."
"Whatever you want? Fuji-senpai, you wouldn't actually---"
Fuji interrupted Momo's indignant protest with a quick rebuttal. "It's not what you're thinking. I just want to have a little talk with him. That's all."
Momo wanted to ask what he was going to talk to Ryoma about, but in that instant, the bartender returned with two shotglasses. Momo watched as he set them down on the counter, and then a flash of understanding came into his eyes.
"Fuji-senpai… we aren't going to…"
"That's right," Fuji said with an almost cheerful smile, even though his eyes were still open. "We're going to have a little contest to settle this. It's not your first time having alcohol, is it?"
Momo couldn't take his eyes off the shotglasses. He finally admitted, "Well, no. I mean, I've been with some college friends before and… But I'm still a year underage, you know. And it's never been hard liquor, either…"
"So you don't accept the challenge?" Fuji inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I assure you, they won't card you here."
"I'm sure you'd know," Momo agreed almost faintly, thinking for a moment. But then his expression changed, and he smiled dangerously. "Alright, I accept. But you're putting yourself at a disadvantage, aren't you, Fuji-senpai?"
"Am I?" the tensai questioned, eyebrows slightly raised.
"Well, you're a lot smaller than I am," said his former teammate, still grinning.
"Mm, that's true enough," Fuji agreed, much too calmly. He reached out and ran his index finger around the rim of the glass, glancing again at Momo. "Well, shall we?"
"Ready when you are," was Momo's answer, as they both picked up their glasses and put them to their lips.
- - - - - - - -
Don't die.
Please don't die.
I couldn't go on without you.
…
Oishi thought that he had woken up, only to find that he must have been in another dream. He was in a room he didn't recognize, and it was dark outside, but inside the room it was full of light. He could hear someone nearby, in what he guessed was the kitchen, moving things around. There was a delicious smell lingering in the air. It had been a long time since he'd been in a place that had been as warm and homey as this one. And so…
And so he had to have been dreaming.
Especially when the person who came into the room turned out to be Eiji.
Oishi sat straight up, surprised, but Eiji just observed quietly, "Oh, you're awake."
"Awake? I'm not dreaming?" Oishi asked, sounding confused.
"Dreaming? No, you're in my apartment. You collapsed while we were walking around, remember?" Eiji sat down on a chair next to the couch, looking very intently at Oishi, trying to understand the expression on his face. He couldn't tell if Oishi was happy or upset, but he wished that he could...
"Collapsed?" Oishi repeated, shocked. He thought for a moment. "Oh… that's right. I remember. Echizen was saying something, and then everything went black…"
He trailed off for a moment, with Eiji still watching him intently, but then Oishi stiffened and started peeling the blanket off of him.
"Well, I'm sorry for troubling you like this," he murmured, about to get up from the couch.
Suddenly, he felt two hands on his shoulders, who insistently pushed him back down. It was Eiji, who firmly replaced the blanket and reached for a pillow to put under Oishi's head.
"Eiji---?"
"No, you don't," Eiji said with a frown. "You're not going anywhere. You're still sick. I won't let you get up, so don't even try."
"But I---" Oishi tried to protest, but he was interrupted.
"No excuses. It's your own fault for not taking care of yourself." And Eiji sighed, completely exasperated. "This is so like you, Oishi! You're always so concerned about everyone else, but then you forget to take care of yourself, nya!"
There was a pause, while Eiji straightened one of the cushions.
"Eiji, did you just say---?" Somehow, Oishi couldn't quite finish the question, but he had certainly noticed it. He had heard the way Eiji pronounced his name, with the silly little emphasis on the 'i,' and he'd even heard Eiji tack that strange cat noise onto the last sentence.
But Eiji hadn't used any of those mannerisms for at least two years. What in the world…?
Eiji didn't seem to notice the unfinished question, though, and occupied himself in putting a hand to Oishi's forehead, frowning even more severely.
"You've even got a fever!" he exclaimed indignantly, peering closely into Oishi's eyes, trying to see if they looked clouded over.
Oishi knew it wasn't just the fever that was making his face turn bright red, but he tried not to think about the way his former doubles partner was standing so close to him, so close that he could just lean forward and kiss…
Oh, God.
Stop thinking about that! Just stop it!
"Eiji," he said suddenly, trying to distract himself. "You really don't have to do all this for me."
"And why shouldn't I?" Eiji sat back down on the chair, looking confused.
"Because," Oishi replied softly, his cheeks still flaming red. "I left you behind, and I…"
Eiji interrupted him again, but this time, it was in a quieter tone, one Oishi had never heard Eiji use before. It was nothing like the cold tone he had used only hours before.
"It doesn't matter, okay? Not right now. We can talk about that some other time. Just… right now…"
His voice wavered, much to Oishi's surprise, and he thought he saw a faint mist around the corners of those deep blue eyes.
"Just right now, can we please forget about it?"
Without thinking, Oishi nodded quickly, filled only with the desire to do whatever those sweet eyes wanted.
Eiji took a deep breath and smiled a little, and his eyes cleared. "Okay then. Right now, I just want to make sure you get better, ny---"
But this time Eiji stopped himself before he make that odd cat noise, clapping a hand over his mouth, stunned. It was as though he'd only just noticed that he was saying it again.
After a moment, he removed his hand, but his cheeks had become a faint pink color.
"Ugh…" he mumbled. "Why am I saying that again?"
He stood up, promptly changing the subject.
"Well, anyway, I have to go get something. I'll be right back, ny-… Agh! Oh, stop it already! Stupid!"
Oishi watched as Eiji turned around and retreated back into the kitchen, smacking himself on the side of the head as he left. And Oishi couldn't resist a smile, even though he wasn't quite sure what was wrong with the catlike redhead.
He listened for a moment, very intently, trying to hear what Eiji was doing just out of his sight, when he suddenly heard another cat noise.
"Meow."
Oishi sat up again and looked around, confused, trying to tell where the sound had come from. Then his eyes landed on the floor by the couch, only to see a little white kitten staring right up at him.
"Oh! That was you?" Oishi couldn't help laughing a little at how such a tiny fluffball had managed to startle him. "Where did you come from?"
At that, the kitten jumped up onto the couch right next to him, sniffing curiously at Oishi's hand and licking it a little.
"Stop that. It tickles," Oishi protested, unable to resist a smile. Finally he couldn't help himself and picked up the kitten, holding it against his chest. He hadn't even petted it, but he could feel it purring as it snuggled against him happily.
"You're a friendly little thing, aren't you?" Oishi observed affectionately, already feeling strangely attached to this tiny kitten that was whiter than snow.
He petted it for a while, liking the feeling of its soft fur against his fingertips. And the kitten purred right back, rubbing its head against Oishi's shirtfront.
"Sorry it took so long… I couldn't find the stupid ladle and---" Eiji came back into the kitchen with a bowl in his hands, only to stop and stare with some confusion at the sight of the cat cuddling in Oishi's arms.
"Ah, Shuuko-chan! What are you doing? Don't bother him!" Eiji set down the bowl on the coffee table and reached for the kitten, taking it out of Oishi's arms and putting it back on the floor again. It looked back up at Eiji, confusion in its big eyes. "Meow?"
"Well, you can't right now. Oishi has to eat, for one thing! Go on, I'll get you your dinner in a minute." Eiji shooed the cat away with his hand, not harshly but nevertheless firmly.
Shuuko-chan?
Oishi was decidedly startled for a moment upon hearing the cat's name. That had to have been a coincidence, right? But then again… knowing Eiji, maybe not…
"Okay, I brought you some soup," Eiji was saying, sitting down again and picking up the bowl. "Because you really have to eat something, you know."
"Oh, I don't know, Eiji…" Suddenly Oishi felt somewhat uncomfortable. Wasn't it weird, to be sitting like this in Eiji's apartment, with Eiji acting like his nurse? He was feeling better, and there was no reason to have anyone fussing over him like this…
As if in protest, his stomach suddenly growled, much to Eiji's amusment.
"See? You have to. Now open up!" And Eiji dipped a spoon into the bowl and held it out to Oishi.
Oishi blushed again and opened his mouth to say, "Eiji, you aren't actually going to---"
But before he could get beyond the first syllable, Eiji had slipped the spoon in between his lips. He held it there for a split second and then drew it out again, leaving Oishi to swallow.
Oishi should have protested. He should have told Eiji that he was well enough to eat by himself. He should have said that this was ridiculous, especially since it had been far too long since they'd been on comfortable terms with each other, and really, what in the world were they doing acting like nothing had ever happened…?
He should have. But he didn't. Instead, he kept opening his mouth compliantly, letting Eiji give him each and every spoonful until the bowl was empty. He let himself forget, in that room filled with golden light, why he was sick, why he shouldn't even be there. And he fell asleep again an hour later only to have the sweetest dreams of his life.
- - - - - - - -
Momo decided he had made a new discovery.
The ceiling could stand on its head.
Or, at least, that was what he was starting to believe, the way parts of the room seemed to be shifting freely in his currently blurred frame of mind.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing at that counter, raising that glass to his lips over and over, but there was no doubt it was going to his head. In a strange way, it wasn't exactly an unpleasant feeling, not in and of itself. But he had the distinct feeling that he had been tricked into this, that somehow Fuji already knew exactly what was going to happen, and that he, Momo, was going to be the one to come out the worse for the deal.
He looked over at the tensai again, who looked perfectly at ease as he drank another shot like it was as mild as tapwater. Fuji set his glass down and gestured to the bartender for what seemed like the millionth time, telling him to refill it. And then he looked in Momo's direction, and those blue eyes seemed to Momo to glow with their own light.
I'm so drunk.
"Are you alright there, Momo?" said Fuji's beautiful voice, sounding unusually light and airy.
"Ah… yeah, Fuji-senpai. I'm fine!" Momo insisted, making sure to carefully form the words so that they didn't come out all slurred together. He didn't really want Fuji to know he was drunk, even though he had a feeling the tensai had already guessed that much.
Supressing a sigh, he looked at the glass in front of him, took it up again, and drank the whole thing. The liquid was so bitter that part of him wanted to gag… he'd never really cared for alcohol, anyway…
But then came that flash through his brain, and that light feeling, like he was being carried away by golden wings, and then it wasn't so bad.
He glanced at Fuji again, who still looked perfectly fine, and wondered for the thousandth time where the tensai put it all. He knew that, all things being equal, smaller people had a harder time absorbing alcohol into their bloodstream. And so he couldn't imagine what kind of tolerance Fuji must have built up to be able to drink like this.
When in the world did he become such a heavy drinker?
… Now, really, that's just creepy.
…
How long are we going to keep this up?
… I'm going to lose, aren't I?
For the first time in the drinking contest, Momo let his worries show on his face. He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer, or he was probably going to pass out. And he definitely didn't want to do that… especially not with Ryoma there…
Ryoma.
Suddenly, just thinking about the tennis star sent the strangest thoughts rushing through his brain, things he'd never thought about before. Things like Ryoma's eyes, and how he wished he could always look into them and never have to look away… and other things, things he wished that he could tell Ryoma, about how much he had missed him when he left, and how…
What is wrong with me?
… I am so drunk.
Fuji watched the rapidly changing expressions on Momo's face, staying absolutely silent, keeping his eyes intently fixed on his former teammate. His own mouth was neither smiling nor frowning, pressed tightly in the straightest line possible as he observed the younger man… But his blue eyes shone with mixed emotions, ones that he didn't even bother hiding now that he could see that his opponent was too far gone to notice.
That's right, Momoshiro.
I want you to understand what a fool you are.
Don't you know how you feel about Echizen yet?
Well, I'm going to make you find out, before it's too late for the both of us.
With that, Fuji picked up his refilled glass yet again, raised it to his lips, and smiled as the legal poison poured down his throat.
- end of chapter twelve –
Useless Footnote: The drinking age in Japan actually is 20, not 21, so I wrote this accordingly. Either way, Momo's underage... But as a college girl, I can tell you that doesn't always stop people from drinking. O.o I have no idea if they normally card people at restaurants in Japan, though... Lol.
A/N: Oops, sorry if this was an evil cliffhanger… I didn't mean for it to be, but this chapter is very long already, lol. In any case, I hope you all enjoyed it! I know I enjoyed writing some of the surprises in it. It's weird how much alcohol I'm writing into this story, given that I hate the stuff, lol… But I promised it would be interesting, didn't I? XD And I put in some Golden Pair fluff for all you GP fans out there (I'm one of you!), so I hope you enjoyed that as well. Don't worry, though, you're still reading the same fic, and there is angst galore coming up!
I really hoped you all liked it, everyone! Sorry I could only get it up by Saturday, but I had to do some editing on it and it took me awhile. The next chapter will be up sometime during next week, although I can't promise when, since I have a big paper due. But I'll do my best!
Please let me know what you thought of chapter twelve!
(And if you have any questions about this fic that you want answered, you can now visit my profile page, where I'll be linking a FAQ that I'm going to post on my website. That way, I don't have to write such long author notes, lol.)
Coming Up Next: The drinking contest comes to an end, and Ryoma finds himself face to face with the former tensai of Seigaku, who has decided to confront him about what happened in the past. Will Ryoma finally get the answers he wants, or just find nothing but trouble?