Chapter Fourteen: Held

Disclaimer: I still don't own Prince of Tennis. Woe is me.

Author's Note: Here's chapter fourteen! 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/Atobe says that flamers "will incur Ore-sama's wrath." Lol.

Okay, I finished chapter fourteen! I'm very glad it didn't take me as long to complete as chapter thirteen, because you all are more than worthy of timely updates. And again, thank you all so much for the reviews! The reviews for thirteen were especially touching to me, given that the chapter was particularly difficult for me to write. I'm glad to know you all enjoyed it! And for those of you who found it heartbreaking, I assure you that I know the feeling, even if I'm the author. T.T Well, on with the fic! Let me know what you all think of chapter fourteen!

Did you forget us, on that day you flew away?

I always wondered if you had forgotten.

You never looked back, but I believed you would return.

Was I a fool for believing in you?

If so, then so be it.

…

Momo scrambled into the front room of the apartment, looking both frantic and dazed at the same time. He was met with the stares of Eiji, Kaidoh, and Inui, who were still talking together as they had been the night before, long after the sun had come up. They were sitting at the small dining table in the front room and had been speaking quietly until Momo barged in.

"Oh, hey, Momo-chin. You're awake," Eiji observed, blinking in surprise at the sudden commotion.

"Where's Echizen?" was the first thing out of Momo's mouth, as he leaned up against the doorpost with something like exhaustion.

"Echizen? He left last night, late, I believe," Inui calmly answered. "He was answering a phone call and never came back inside."

There was a pause as Momo let this information sink in.

"I have to go find him," he said at last, grimacing. He had the worst headache in the world, but that didn't matter, not now…

"Whoa there, Momo-chin!" Eiji walked up to the power player and grabbed his arm. "Why do you have to go find Ochibi right now? You don't look too good…"

"It's just… I have to. Fuji-senpai was…" Momo attempted to articulate an answer, in spite of the throbbing pain. But he was interrupted by his rival.

"What about Fuji-senpai?" Kaidoh growled, coming right up to Momo and glaring in his face.

"Fuji-senpai… he was going to talk to Echizen last night… or that's what he said, but… Ugghhh…" Momo really wanted to explain the whole thing clearly to his former teammates, but the ache in his head was starting to get the best of him and give way to outright nausea.

"He was going to talk to Ochibi?" Eiji repeated, glancing at Inui with a meaningful look.

"Inui-senpai, Kaidoh…"

Momo took a deep breath and steadied himself for a moment, knowing that this was going to be his only chance to say something before he had to make a run for the restroom.

"I need you to do something for me."

- - - - - - - - -

Fuji opened his eyes and stared straight at Tezuka. That look in those sky blue irises was unmistakable. It was the look of someone who was absolutely desperate, who knew that he had been backed into a corner, that this was his only chance to play his final trump card and put his last bet on the line.

It was a look that would change Tezuka's life forever.

The tensai began slowly at first, speaking very softly almost under his breath. But that piercing look in those blue eyes rooted Tezuka's feet to the floor, and he couldn't escape the power of those words…

"What do you want, Tezuka? Is this all you want from life? Is this really it?"

…

Tezuka's eyelids slowly fluttered open, and he was met with the light of morning as it streamed in through the hotel window. He blinked in surprise at how bright it was. Had he forgotten to draw the curtains overnight? Or perhaps…

He glanced over beside him, but no, the tensai was still sleeping, looking particularly angelic in the gentle morning light. The folds of the snow white bed sheet cascaded over his delicate figure like a cloud, and the sun was glinting off of his hair just like a shining halo.

As though he couldn't help himself, Tezuka held his breath and leaned in toward Fuji's sleeping form, lightly caressing those shining locks of hair, brushing them away from Fuji's perfectly beautiful face.

And for the thousandth time, Tezuka wished that this outward perfection was the only reality.

The truth was, though, that when he unconsciously likened Fuji to an angel, it was only a faint reference to a fleeting dream that had long since died in his heart. There was no truth to it. It wasn't so much a reflection on the tensai as it was a reflection on Tezuka's jaded perspective, even though both had become rather twisted under the omnipotent strength of time. Either way, Fuji was not, could not be an angel.

And that, too, was probably his own fault.

Repressing a sigh, he got up from the bed, taking care to do it slowly so as not to wake Fuji. He walked over to the window, gazing out at the bustling city far beneath him. And he wondered why, lately, he could dream of nothing but the past.

He wondered, but he didn't really need to wonder. After all, the answer was obvious.

It was because of Ryoma, of course.

It had been so long since he had even seen the boy… Well, in person, at least, because of course he'd seen the hundreds of billboard ads for sponsors who had readily taken advantage of their patron athlete's youthful good looks. And he'd watched him on television, too, especially all four times that Ryoma had claimed the men's world championship at Wimbledon. And he'd heard the boy's name repeated in countless conversations about his chosen sport, especially during his travels in Europe.

But somehow, something in him had still seen Ryoma as the twelve-year-old boy, the boy that had intrigued him from the moment he started attending Seigaku over five years ago. It was only now, now that he had seen him again after five long years, that he no longer saw Ryoma as that boy from his memory.

It was strange, really, how during the passage of time their roles had reversed.

Once, Tezuka had been the source of Ryoma's inspiration. Now, to Tezuka, it was Ryoma who burned in his mind like an ideal of what his own life could have… no, should have been like.

But that, of course, was an ideal that was now impossible for him to reach.

Perhaps that was why he was afraid. He was afraid of what he knew he had to do. He had to tell Ryoma everything. And yet… he wasn't so sure that he had the courage to tell him. What would the boy who had always looked up to him say about something so horrifying? … Would he even say anything at all?

Tezuka wasn't sure if Ryoma would say anything, but he was sure that Ryoma would never be able to look up to him again.

It was a source of regret for the former captain, but it was a regret that had long since become past repair.

This was what I chose. I can't change it anymore. I'm no longer fit for dreams or ambitions…

For a moment, Tezuka glanced back at the tensai, who was still sleeping peacefully.

The only thing I can do is tell him the truth.

- - - - - - - -

Did you forget? Did you?

ANSWER ME!

…

Ryoma was standing and staring at the familiar sight in front of him, unsure if he was dreaming or if perhaps he really was awake after all. Either way, he couldn't remember. He hardly remembered where he was, or rather where he was supposed to be… Japan, maybe, he thought… And he was starting to wonder if it was more likely that he was just asleep, maybe having a bad dream.

It certainly would explain his confused state of mind. And why he had walked all over Tokyo during the night, not caring who saw him wandering around like some crazed nutcase, soaked to the skin with last night's rain. And why even though the morning sun was starting to dry off his clothes, it couldn't wake him out of his dazed trance.

It didn't explain why his body was aching all over, though. As far as Ryoma could remember, dreams usually didn't hurt. At least, not like this…

He continued staring at the place, wondering why he had come here of all places. It was that street tennis place, with the familiar courts and benches and vending machines. At the moment, he only faintly recalled all the times that he and his friends had gathered at these courts, usually just goofing off and acting completely stupid. If his mind wasn't so distracted, he might have smiled at all the strange memories that this place held. But at the moment, he could hardly even remember those times…

… So why had his feet carried him here, anyway?

Slowly, and with some pain, he trudged over to the stone risers and sat down on one of the benches, putting his head in his heads.

Why was he here?

Why was he here in the first place? Why was he in Japan? What had he come here for?

He didn't even know anymore.

"Fuji-senpai was right," he mumbled brokenly, voice muffled. "I should never have come back."

Completely exhausted, he drew one leg up onto the bench and rested his head on his knee, trying to ignore the dull ache in his chest.

It's because I'm to blame, after all.

It's all my fault.

… I should just leave. I can't help them, not if I'm the one who hurt them.

"Echizen. There you are," said a familiar voice behind him.

Was this just another part of the dream?

Ryoma lifted his head to look back, to see if he'd just been hearing things. But no, there was Inui, and Kaidoh was right behind him. They were just standing there, looking at him, their expressions completely unreadable to Ryoma's eyes.

What were they doing in this part of town?

"Inui-senpai? Kaidoh-senpai…" Ryoma looked vaguely surprised, but mostly just confused. "What are you doing here?"

"We could ask you the same question," Kaidoh retorted, though not as harshly as Ryoma would have expected. He climbed down the steps and came right up alongside the tennis star, with Inui following him.

"What are you doing out here, Echizen?" the snakelike teenager demanded, frowning and staring straight down into Ryoma's eyes.

There was a pause. Ryoma didn't know what to say.

"I don't know," he managed at last, very quietly.

Inui glanced at Kaidoh for a moment and then observed, "You look like you were out all night in the rain. Didn't you go back to the hotel to sleep, Echizen?"

"No," came the simple answer as Ryoma buried his head in his arms, still leaning against his knee.

The wind picked up then, rustling among the trees and blowing a few stray leaves across the ground. Inui glanced out over the tennis court, watching as the sunlight danced on the pavement in front of him.

He had a guess as to what had happened, of course. And one look at Kaidoh had told him that his roommate also suspected what had occurred the previous night, in whatever had passed between the tensai and the tennis star. At first, he wasn't sure what to say, and the silence was overwhelming.

At last, with a slight sigh, he slowly began to speak.

"You know, Echizen," he said calmly. "I don't consider myself to be a wise person, not by any stretch of the imagination. When it comes to other people, there is no limit to how inaccurate my data can be. But there is one thing I do know, with perfect accuracy…"

Ryoma lifted his head and watched as his senpai pushed his glasses upward, in that comfortingly familiar gesture.

"I know myself."

Ryoma blinked, still gazing at the data man's profile, as his former teammate stared very intently at the court in front of him.

"I still have a great deal to learn about life, but that knowledge has never once failed me," added Inui, in a very serious tone. "And during the very worst of times, it has been that knowledge that has enabled me to keep moving forward. I may not know all the answers, but I do know what I want from life."

Inui glanced upward at the sky for a moment, watching as a few stray clouds slowly passed overhead.

Then he looked straight at Ryoma, and for a split second, Ryoma saw the earnest expression in his senpai's dark eyes, behind those thick lenses.

"Echizen, what do you want from life?" he asked, a surprisingly gentle tone in his voice.

Ryoma lowered his eyes, thinking for a moment.

"What do I want---?" he repeated, barely louder than a whisper.

The first thing that crowded into his head was the demanding reality of the tennis court in front of him. That was his place in life now, after all. He was on the court every day, training, competing, perfecting his game… Even though he was already on the top of the world, that was his only life, and that had been his choice. He had wanted nothing except to keep aiming higher and higher, ever since he was twelve, ever since he had been awakened by a shining golden figure who had demanded that he become something more than he had ever dreamed…

But the powerful reality of this ambition now seemed strangely dim in his own heart.

Suddenly, he couldn't stop thinking of that horrifying view from the skyscraper, of the accusing eyes in his dream, of all the unsettling secrets he had learned in the past few days… they absolutely haunted him…

Why?

"Echizen," Inui said at last into the silence, watching the younger boy. "You may not know what it is yet. But you will. And when you find out what it is, hold on to it and don't ever let go."

Ryoma let some of the confusion come into his face then. "But, Inui-senpai, how---"

"You'll know, Echizen. I'm sure of it," Inui interrupted calmly. Changing subjects, he remarked, "We should probably be getting you back to the hotel now. You need to get some rest…"

"Inui-senpai," Ryoma said suddenly, with a soft look in his usually sharp eyes. "I… Can we… Well, I don't want to go back to the hotel."

He looked back up at his tall senpai, an almost timid smile on his lips. "Could you take me back to Eiji-senpai's apartment, please?"

Inui smiled a little at that and nodded. "Of course, Echizen. You can stand, right?"

There was a pause, as Ryoma put both his feet on the ground and pressed his hands against the bench, lifting himself up. But he quickly returned to his sitting position and laughed a little, sounding almost blank.

"That's funny… my legs aren't quite working…"

Inui took a few steps toward the tennis star, but he was held back by Kaidoh, who stepped in front of his senpai with a vaguely gruff expression.

Ryoma felt himself being lifted into the air by a pair of very strong arms, and he heard a deep voice muttering, "I've got him, senpai."

In any other situation, Ryoma would have completely balked at the idea of being carried around by one of his former teammates. But it had been such a strange night… He leaned his head against Kaidoh's chest and closed his eyes, not even bothering to wonder how Kaidoh was able to carry him. He may have been fairly short, but he was seventeen after all, and…

Ryoma drifted off, and Inui looked at the tennis star, asleep in Kaidoh's arms.

"You certainly do, Kaidoh," he responded to his roommate's previous assertion, laughing inwardly at the way Kaidoh rolled his eyes despite his flushing cheeks.

"Well, it's Echizen, after all," Kaidoh said in a low tone, glancing himself at Ryoma's pale, water-stained face. "He has to be alright."

- - - - - - - -

Oishi awoke that morning to the sound of two people, talking softly nearby. He knew without a doubt that one of those voices belonged to Eiji. He had never forgotten the sound of Eiji's voice, not for one second…

… But who was that other voice?

He slowly opened his eyes and sat up, only to attract the attention of the voices' owners, who were standing nearby. And, sure enough, there was Eiji, standing next to…

"Uncle Shuichi?" Oishi asked, looking confused. He had expected Eiji to be there, as fuzzy as his memory of the previous day was, but why was his uncle in Eiji's apartment? (1)

"I'll take a look at him, Eiji-kun," Shuichi said to the redhead, who nodded and silently left the room, eyes glued to the floor.

Oishi watched him leave, and then turned his attention back to his uncle, who had already sat down on the chair by the sofa and begun taking Oishi's pulse.

"Uncle, what are you doing here?" he couldn't help wondering aloud, still somewhat bewildered.

At first, his uncle didn't respond, his kind face focused on Oishi's wrist as he mentally observed the gentle thrumming of his nephew's heartbeat. And then he smiled, almost sadly, and looked back up at Oishi.

"Eiji-kun called me. He said you fainted yesterday," he explained slowly, looking Oishi very intently in the eyes. Somehow, Oishi started to feel extremely uncomfortable under that searching gaze, and he blushed and looked away.

For a moment, the doctor just sighed. He then took out a thermometer from his briefcase.

"Open up," he instructed, after he had shaken the thermometer a few times. Oishi obeyed, and his uncle slipped the device under his nephew's tongue and told him to keep his mouth closed.

There was a pause, while Oishi concentrated on keeping the thermometer steady inside his mouth. His uncle just watched him, until finally he began to speak again, fully aware that Oishi wouldn't be able to reply.

"It was quite the surprise, you know," he remarked, catching his nephew's attention again. "As far as your aunt and I knew, you're still supposed to be in England, aren't you?"

He didn't expect an answer. No, this question didn't need an answer. But he did need to see the expression in Oishi's eyes as he asked it, as he tried to understand what had happened…

"Shuichiroh, you don't have to tell me anything," he added quietly. "But I want you to know that I'm worried about you. I've been worried about you…"

He stopped short when the thermometer beeped loudly, and he reached over to take it out of Oishi's mouth again. Hardly glancing at the digital reading, he shook his head and put the thermometer back into his bag.

"You haven't been taking care of yourself, Shuichiroh."

It was a statement, said without a shadow of a doubt. And Oishi's uncle once again looked straight at his nephew, an almost stern expression on that normally gentle face.

Oishi opened his mouth to protest, but then he stopped himself and looked down at his own hands, as they tightly clasped the blanket that had been spread over him.

"I'm sorry, Uncle," he managed at last, very softly.

But his uncle just shook his head again and smiled slightly.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Shuichiroh," he remarked. "But you can't go on like this. You're suffering from exhaustion, mentally and physically, and if you don't start getting some proper rest and lay off the caffeine, your health is only going to get worse."

Oishi blinked in surprise. "How did you know that I was drinking caffeine?"

His uncle laughed a little, reaching out and caressing Oishi's face affectionately.

"You think I can't tell what my own nephew has been doing lately?" He smiled and winked. "I know you far too well for that."

Oishi even smiled a little then, hoping that his uncle wouldn't worry too much about him. Somehow, though, it was the sight of that reluctant smile that seemed to worry his uncle the most, and before Oishi even knew what had happened, his uncle had tears in his eyes.

"Uncle? What's wrong?" he asked, confused.

Suddenly, Oishi found himself in his uncle's embrace, pressed against his shirtfront just like a child in need of comfort. He blinked in surprise for a moment, but then he relaxed, just appreciating the feeling of being held again.

Being held.

He didn't know how long it had been since someone had hugged him. It was something he hadn't really thought about, but suddenly, he was reminded of how much he had missed that simple feeling, of two loving arms holding him close…

He felt tears coming to his own eyes.

"Shuichiroh," his uncle was whispering, his breath brushing against his nephew's ear. "Shuichiroh, I don't know all the details about what you've been going through. I probably never will. But Shuichiroh…"

He held his nephew a little tighter, as Oishi started crying.

"Shuichiroh, the only thing we want… The only thing your parents and I want is for you to be happy. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Oishi murmured, sniffling a little, trying to hold back the tears that were still brimming around his eyes.

"Just be happy," his uncle repeated. He then took a deep breath and released his nephew from his embrace.

After a moment, they both laughed a little, more from a kind of relief than anything else. And Oishi actually smiled, forgetting for a moment to regret the past.

"Thank you, Uncle," he said, with a look that proved that he meant it. His uncle nodded, answering only, "Don't thank me. Just take care of yourself from now on."

He stood up from the chair and walked over to the side hallway, calling, "Eiji-kun! I'm finished in here."

Oishi felt his heart speed up a little when the redhead came back into the room. He looked back down at the blanket spread out in front of him, trying to ignore that all-too-familiar feeling, as if his stomach was twisting into knots at the mere reality of Eiji's presence.

"Well, I'll see you later, Eiji-kun," Oishi's uncle was saying to the younger man. He paused for a moment, as if trying to recall something.

"Don't you have a roommate now?" he inquired finally. "Is he still sleeping?"

Eiji blinked and then laughed nervously.

"Um, yeah, he's still sleeping!" he replied with a sheepish grin, thinking it best not to tell the doctor that Momo had an unusually severe hangover and was probably throwing up at the moment.

"Ah, I see. Well, I'll see you later, Eiji-kun," he repeated amiably, glancing one last time at his nephew. And as though he really couldn't help it, he turned to Eiji one last time and added, very softly, "Please take good care of him."

Eiji felt his throat tighten up at that, but he nodded bravely, and Oishi's uncle gave him an approving nod before he walked out the door, a slight remnant of sorrow still lingering in his eyes.

- - - - - - - -

Taka was hard at work, cleaning the tables at the sushi restaurant in preparation for business hours. He smiled at Kimiko Hoshina, his fiancée, who was sitting on one of the stools by the counter, patiently waiting for him to finish his chores.

"What were you thinking about, Takashi?" she said suddenly, echoing his smile with one of her own.

Taka stopped short, looking a bit perplexed. "What do you mean, Kimiko-chan?"

"You looked like you were thinking about something a moment ago," she explained calmly, still looking him straight in the eyes. Taka loved that about her. She never looked away when she was talking to someone, but always met their stare with her own honest gaze.

He thought for a moment, and then he put down the towel he'd been using and came up alongside her. His face became very serious, and she was surprised at the determination in his expression.

"What is it, Takashi?" she asked quietly, looking up at him.

For a moment, Taka didn't say anything, instead putting his arms around the girl and holding her close. Kimiko smiled to herself and slipped her own delicate arms around Taka's back, resting her head against his chest.

Taka was gently stroking his fiancée on the back, somewhat absently, and then he finally spoke, in a very solemn tone.

"Kimiko-chan, I have something I need you to do for me." He pulled away just a little, so he could look her in the eyes again. "Will you do it, even if it's hard?"

There was a pause, as Kimiko met his gaze and thought for a moment. Then she nodded, just as seriously.

"I will if I can," she answered firmly. "What can I do for you, Takashi?"

Taka took a deep breath, and then he replied to her question, in a voice slightly darkened by the shadow that naturally hung over the subject.

"I need you to talk to Echizen. About Fuji."

- end of chapter fourteen -

Useless Footnote: (1) Yes, Oishi really does have an uncle who's a doctor. He's the guy who examines Tezuka's arm in the early anime episodes. I'm almost positive that his first name is Shuichi. But I can't check up on that for the moment, so if I'm wrong, please forgive me, lol! XD

A/N: Sorry I didn't post this chapter a bit sooner! I will still update at least once this weekend, probably Saturday morning, and then I'll probably be able to update again by Sunday night. Hopefully that still will make up for last week's delay.

This chapter was more of a transition chapter, but I tried to make it interesting, in spite of how short it is. And I even got to write a scene with Tezuka in it on Tezuka's birthday! So, happy birthday, Buchou! XD

Thank you SO MUCH to all my amazing reviewers. I can't possibly thank you all enough, for all your kind words and encouragement. And to the two C2 managers who added my story to their group, thank you as well. I'm so flattered and so touched that people are actually reading this fic. So, thank you once again, even though I know I've said it a thousand times. And thanks also to BluAyu, who drew me a lovely piece of GP fan art that I just love! -hugs her-

Look for the next chapter by Saturday! And let me know what you thought of chapter fourteen!

(Once again, the FAQ for this fic is linked on my profile page, to anyone who wants to read it/ask me a question.)

Coming Up Next: Events have slowly been approaching the inevitable, and Ryoma is about to discover the first of the ugliest secrets of the past five years. This secret is about the tensai himself, about something that he has kept hidden so well that only three people know the truth about the real Fuji…