Chapter Twenty-One: Awakened

Disclaimer: I still don't own Prince of Tennis… It's just the love of my life. XD

Author's Note: Here's chapter twenty-one! 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 will be subjected to my endless PoT-obsessed ramblings. Lol.

Here it is! This is a pretty pivotal chapter, if I do say so myself, and it should give everyone an idea of the ending that is to come. This one is dedicated to all my faithful readers, who continue to amaze me with the fact that they're still reading such an epic. O.O Thank you so much, everyone! I hope you enjoy it. And let me know what you all think of chapter twenty-one!

Tonight, I finally understand. Tonight, I realized for the first time…

I let you down.

I stood with my back to you, as you fell into despair.

I won't let it happen again.

…

"I'll be waiting for you at three o'clock, three days from now. Come alone."

Ryoma stood in the golden light of a burning sunset, holding a tennis ball in his hand. He stood there, watching, as the captain of Seigaku vanished from his sight. He stood there, with that bright yellow ball in his hand, and for the first time in his life, he was completely blown away.

Here was someone who was so powerful, that even though he had never faced him on a tennis court, Ryoma could already feel the strength emanating from that man's silent form.

It was making his heart beat faster and faster...

He hadn't known then that the impending encounter between them would result in a chain of events that would change Ryoma's world forever. He hadn't known that it would be this man, this stunning presence, who would ignite Ryoma's ambition and turn him into a legend.

He hadn't known then.

But even so, the anticipation of the match between them had captivated him.

And Echizen Ryoma had never known what it was to have his heart captured, however briefly it may have been, by another person. Not ever.

It was a feeling that he never forgot.

…

Tezuka was walking, alone, on his way to the courts at Haruno University. This was the place that Ryoma wanted to meet him. That much, he knew for certain. But what Ryoma could have to say to him, he had not the slightest idea.

It wasn't like him to spend his time trying to anticipate the actions of another. That was an activity reserved for someone like Inui. No, he took things as they came to him, and not a moment sooner. Nevertheless, he now had the distinctly unpleasant feeling of stumbling forward in the dark, wondering when he would trip over something unseen and go crashing to the ground.

He had no idea what Ryoma could have to say.

But something in him was afraid.

He did have something to fear; he knew that much. There had been a time when he had been able to say that he harbored no regrets. That time had passed.

That time had been replaced with the scream of a train, covered in blood, and a beautiful voice that whispered poison into his ear.

It was a nightmare. He was living in a nightmare, but he had lost the ability to wake up again.

Slowly, Tezuka glanced both ways before making his way across the street. His surroundings were growing increasingly familiar with every passing minute. It had been quite some time since he had visited the area, but he remembered it well. Even in the days before he had known Ryoma, he had come here often to practice by himself.

In the days before Ryoma…

In a strange way, Tezuka could hardly recall his life before the talented boy had appeared at Seigaku. He knew such a time existed, of course, and he had the remnants of his memories from those years… But he couldn't feel them. They felt like nothing, compared to the moment when that shining star had appeared on Seigaku's courts, that star who had gone on to conquer the world and shatter the expectations of every last tennis enthusiast on the face of the earth.

Tezuka wasn't a vain person. He wasn't one to flatter himself. He gave himself only the credit he deserved, and not a shred more.

But in a way, when he had first set eyes on Echizen Ryoma, he had felt a shadow fall across his own fate. At the time, he hadn't been able to put a finger on it, that distinctly ominous feeling of pending danger. But in retrospect, when Echizen had appeared, it had been the death knell for his own tennis career.

Maybe it had been set in the stars, long before Ryoma had appeared, long before Tezuka had realized that this prince of tennis was Japan's hope for tennis fame, and not him.

Maybe so. But his choice, in regard to Ryoma, had undoubtedly spelled his own destruction.

Tezuka's choice to make Ryoma the new candidate for Seigaku's pillar had slowly minimized his own importance to his fellow teammates. His choice had also created a monstrosity whose tennis ability was so great that only the pro circuit could contain it. This talented boy had vanished in less than a year. At the time, Tezuka had foolishly resolved to make up the difference himself, to fill the new void in their lives with his own force of will. His arm had healed; he was stronger… Wasn't that enough for them all?

It had not been enough.

It had not been enough when Oishi had unexpectedly developed new feelings for his doubles partner. That alone had caused a rift in the Golden Pair that had never healed.

It had not been enough when Momo had completely failed to make the Regulars, all three years in high school, or when his apathy about this fact had driven Kaidoh to ignore him completely, the chilling result of some rift that neither would explain.

It had not been enough when Fuji had started suffering at home, when the fragile threads holding his mind together had begun to snap, one by one, until he was tormenting the girl that Taka had secretly liked since their freshman year in high school.

It had not been enough when this torment had driven Taka to hit Fuji right across the face in a rage, right in front of Hoshina Kimiko, and right in front of Tezuka.

And it had certainly not been enough when, slowly, painfully, Tezuka had discovered that he himself was in Fuji's cruel grasp, and that when the tensai had shoved him away, he had been possessed with the uncontrollable desire to fling himself in front of that screaming train.

No, Tezuka's will had certainly not been enough to hold them all together.

And now, his arm, like the bonds between them all, would never heal.

… Would they?

Tezuka took a deep breath, and tried to shake the shadowed thoughts from his mind. Either way, it was too late. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter anymore.

Besides, he had arrived.

Clumsily, he fumbled at the metal latch, pushing the gate open as it let out a mournful creaking sound. It was already long past twilight; the darkness surrounding the area was broken only by the fluorescent court lights, one of which was flickering ominously in the corner of Tezuka's peripheral vision.

He knew before he even looked, though, that he was already there.

That shining star.

Echizen Ryoma.

The young man was standing next to the net, pulling something out of his large tennis bag. At the sound of the creaking gate, though, Ryoma glanced in Tezuka's direction. Something in those golden eyes cut Tezuka to the heart.

"You're here," Ryoma said simply.

For a moment, Tezuka felt as though he had turned to stone, that he couldn't possibly move. But he forced himself to nod in reply, and started to walk toward where the tennis pro was standing.

In that instant, Tezuka felt as though he was crossing an entire ocean, so slow did the passage of time feel to him.

… What was that look in those golden eyes? He could have sworn that he'd seen it before, that he'd felt it before… Where?

With every step he took toward the young man, Tezuka felt as though he was shrinking into nothing. By the time he was standing in front of Ryoma, he felt as though the boy may as well have been towering somewhere above his head.

There was a painful moment, when they simply stood there, the two pillars, each staring at what the other had become.

And then Ryoma reached into his bag again, and flung something at Tezuka. On impulse, Tezuka caught it with his right hand.

It was a tennis racquet.

"I have something to say to you, Buchou," Ryoma said, in that voice that made Tezuka's heart falter inside his chest.

"I have something to say to you, but I won't say it…"

Those golden eyes narrowed, and they glittered with something unrecognizable.

"I won't say it until I'm finished with you."

Tezuka's own eyes widened in astonishment. He wanted to ask what in the world Ryoma meant, what the boy could possibly intend to do, by throwing a racquet into his right hand and demanding a duel against someone who couldn't even play the sport anymore.

But he couldn't speak. Ryoma, on the other hand, pointed with his own racquet toward one end of the court.

"Get on the court, Tezuka-buchou."

Without another word, he began walking in the opposite direction, slipping two tennis balls into his pocket and fingering the third in his left hand.

In a daze, Tezuka felt his legs carrying him to the baseline on his end of the court. He turned toward the net, awkwardly grasping the racquet in his right hand, trying to correct his clumsy grip… But he couldn't concentrate on the task at all. In fact, he couldn't see a thing, except for the radiant star on the other side of the court, the star glowing with a golden light.

What happened next was nothing short of perfection, in calculated, steady motion.

Ryoma, the world champion, bent his knees and threw the ball into the air, a flawless toss. Tezuka then watched as the boy's legs straightened again, releasing the tension in his slender muscles upward, in a smooth motion that moved steadily up his body and culminated into the exact moment when that racquet hit the ball. Ryoma's body flung itself toward the net, as that limber wrist thrust forward and spun the ball into his infamous twist serve.

It was art in motion, and it took Tezuka's breath away. The boy's remarkable serve had been polished into an ideal that only a pro could hope to achieve. Despite his years of tennis experience, Tezuka couldn't see a single flaw in it.

He was so awed that he only realized a full ten seconds later that he should have at least attempted to hit the ball.

In that instant, he fully realized how useless this was. He couldn't compete against this barely human phenomenon. He couldn't even have faced the twelve year old boy in his present condition, but this tennis superstar was so far above him that he wished he could just disappear.

"What are you doing, Buchou?" came the accusing voice through Tezuka's agonized thought process.

"Don't just stand there!" Ryoma added, more painfully this time, as he projected his voice across the court. He had already started walking to the other side, and Tezuka scrambled to get into position.

"Don't you dare just stand there!" the boy repeated, yelling it as he bent his knees again.

As though it had been a replay, that perfect serve appeared again, darting straight into the service box and rocketing easily past Tezuka's outstretched racquet.

"Return it, Buchou! Hit it back!"

"Don't stand there!"

"HIT IT!"

Slowly, Tezuka started to feel as though Ryoma's voice was no longer the voice of his opponent across the court. It was the voice that was playing inside his head, the voice that was starting to burn a hole in his heart, as Tezuka realized for himself just how pathetic his game had become in the space of a year.

It felt as though that voice was shaking him, repeatedly, screaming in his ear and cracking the ice that had formed around his ambition the moment that he had decided to jump to his fate.

Suddenly, he was no longer ashamed. He was furious. At himself.

Over and over, Ryoma served the ball to Tezuka without stopping. The boy was relentless, putting every drop of his power into each shot. His serves were like rockets, and half of the time Tezuka couldn't even see the ball before it whizzed by his head.

Every single time, though, Tezuka forced himself to swing. It was a futile effort, he knew. His timing was painfully off, and he could tell that his follow through was weak, even though he hadn't made contact with the ball yet. But as his disgust with himself grew, slowly his arm began to recall the motion and refine the movement. He had never been as good with his right arm as with his left, but he had used it before, and it was coming back to him, if only slightly.

But even if his arm was starting to move properly again, there was no hope of him returning that monstrous serve. No, for that, he would have to speed up his swing, and regain the sense of preemptive timing that he had lost…

"What are you doing, Buchou? Hit the ball! HIT IT!"

Tezuka's amber eyes widened, and for a moment, his mind cleared. His frustration forced itself into a sharp, crisp arm motion, and his racquet sliced through the air.

He had returned the twist serve.

Just like that, with the precision of a superhuman machine, Ryoma took two steps to his left and hit a flawless backhand to the opposite end of the court. Again, Tezuka was stunned at the polish of the move. He had seen Ryoma play on television, of course. But the television didn't do such unfathomable skill justice.

Tezuka had seen a recording of Echizen Nanjiroh play. This boy was not Echizen Nanjiroh.

No, this shining star, this Echizen Ryoma, was a dream come true.

But just as before, the star would not allow Tezuka to admire its glorified light. Again, Ryoma turned the former captain's focus inward, forcing himself to face his own imperfection.

"That isn't Tezuka-buchou's return! Show me Tezuka-buchou's return!" Ryoma shouted across the court, his hurt voice echoing in the empty space around them.

"SHOW ME!"

Again, Tezuka found himself staring a serve in the face, moving without thinking as he swung at the ball. He returned it once more, much to his own surprise, only to be confronted with another impossibly fast groundstroke that he couldn't reach.

And then, it happened again. And again. And again…

Slowly, in that frenzy of repetition, where Tezuka scrambled after each and every flawless shot, his stroke grew steadier and his footwork more responsive. It was not his old game, not by a long shot. But he could feel the fire starting to burn in his eyes, a reflection of his resolve. It came as nothing but a surprise to him. It had been… He didn't know how long it had been since he had felt this way.

A year? Two years? More? … No, maybe it had already been five years… Maybe it was only Ryoma's return to Japan that had brought this fire back into his eyes.

His heart was throbbing, that painful beating echoing in his ears.

…

As for Ryoma…

Ryoma couldn't believe how far Tezuka had fallen. In place of Tezuka's astonishment at Ryoma's perfection, Ryoma had nothing now except the most pained disappointment in Tezuka's current condition. It was only natural, he knew. To stop playing tennis for over a year would throw off anyone's game…

But to make matters worse, when that person was the only being that Ryoma had ever idolized, the one person that he had perhaps given too much credit…

Ryoma's heart was shattered.

I can't do this.

I can't do anything for him… It's too late… But…

I can't leave him like this!

"Buchou! Don't stop!" he yelled, serving the ball again, just as fast as the first time. "Don't you DARE stop!"

He swung through his forehand with all the anguish he was feeling.

"I won't stop, Buchou!" he added, his eyes piercing through the distant figure of Tezuka, who was trying to catch his breath. "I won't stop until I'm finished!"

He served the ball again, watching as Tezuka swung through on the return and sent the ball toward the middle of the court.

Ryoma caught up to the return and easily hit a solid winning shot into the far corner.

"You never stopped, Buchou! Don't you remember?" he demanded, without even waiting for a reply. He returned to the baseline, only to serve again for the thousandth time.

"You never gave up! You had me on my KNEES, Buchou! You never stopped for me!"

…

Ryoma was on his knees before that towering figure, staring in astonishment at the captain of Seigaku. He had been struck speechless by the man's skill on the court, and he was now gazing up at the man that he knew he would admire for the rest of his life.

"Echizen, become Seigaku's pillar of support!"

Ryoma looked into that gleaming amber gaze, and even though he didn't understand the cryptic command, he could feel himself instantly submitting to the persuasion of those blazing eyes.

…

"Don't stop, Buchou!" Ryoma cried, trying to suppress the pain in his voice.

And again, and again, Ryoma served the ball, over and over to a desperate Tezuka, who flung himself toward each shot with reckless abandon. They never noticed that two figures had appeared in the shadows under the overpass, and were watching their every move.

- - - - - - - - -

It was a particularly cold, dreary day. Fuji could feel the gloomy weather pressing in on his mood, and the ever-present desire to disappear into his bedroom for another week was starting to grow difficult to ignore. He was walking home from school, but he never paid attention to where he was going, not anymore. It was a new habit that often got him lost. On one night a few months earlier, he had found himself in a place that he didn't recognize at all, with a dead cell phone and less than twenty yen in pocket change.

That particular time, he had curled up behind a dumpster, trying to hide from the dark night and the unseen shadows that lurked within it. When morning had come around, he had walked and walked until he finally found his way back to school. He had shown up just barely in time for first period, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair mussed and unruly.

He still remembered the way Tezuka had looked at him with concern that day, the way his deep voice had asked him if he was alright. The thought of it still made his heart tremble.

Fuji took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest as he walked down the snow-lined sidewalk. Suddenly, he stopped right in his tracks.

There, looking in a store window, was Tezuka.

Fuji felt almost as though he were flying, as he came up alongside his former captain. But before he could call out a single word of greeting, he noticed what Tezuka was looking at.

It was a television.

On that television was a tennis court, and on that tennis court was a boy. And that boy was Echizen Ryoma.

In that moment, looking at Tezuka's distant expression as he watched that tiny figure smash the ball, Fuji knew.

Tezuka was going to follow Ryoma.

He was going to disappear into the unreachable world of the pro circuit, and he was going to join Ryoma at the top of the world. And he was going to forget about everything else, as he followed that dream to the ends of the earth. He was going to think of nothing but tennis for the rest of his life…

And Fuji would never see him again.

Suddenly, Fuji knew something else. He was never going to let that happen.

He wasn't going to let Tezuka reach for that dream.

Not if he could help it.

…

Fuji watched, blue eyes open and staring vacantly in front of him, as Tezuka struggled on the tennis court, trying to keep up with Ryoma's frantic pace. The tensai's emotions were so jumbled together that he didn't know what he was feeling, watching Tezuka scrambling after the powerful shots with nothing short of desperation. He didn't regret this; this was what Fuji had always intended to happen…

… But something in him hurt, seeing what Seigaku's captain had become.

Seeing what Tezuka had become, because of him.

He would have sighed, however slightly, but his breath caught in his throat at the sudden sound of footsteps behind him.

He turned to see that Momo had appeared next to him, staring at the court with his dark purple eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Fuji demanded, almost irritated.

Momo shrugged slightly, and the tensai was suddenly very aware that he couldn't read the expression on the younger man's face.

"I followed Echizen here," was the seemingly blunt reply.

Fuji processed this for a moment, but he couldn't quite decipher the hidden meaning in that response.

"I see," was all he said, shutting his eyes firmly. He wasn't going to let Momo see the tinge of guilt in his face, not if he could help it.

"You know, I could ask the same of you," Momo said suddenly, almost lightly. "What are you doing here, Fuji-senpai?"

"I followed Tezuka here," was Fuji's slightly sarcastic retort. He turned back to the court, watching as Tezuka lunged toward an aggressive groundstroke, stumbling and falling to one knee.

"I'm making sure Echizen doesn't try anything," Fuji added bitterly, frowning at the sight.

He didn't notice Momo glance sideways at him for a moment, very knowingly.

"Oh, I see," came the casual reply.

"Why are you here?" Fuji turned back to his former teammate, suddenly very suspicious of the newcomer's unexplained appearance.

"I'm making sure Echizen doesn't stop," replied Momo, staring right at the tensai. Fuji's eyes flew open in surprise at the conviction in that voice.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, eyebrows furrowing in a blend of confusion and vexation.

For a moment, Momo said nothing, as he looked away to watch Echizen toss the ball and follow through with his twist serve yet again.

"It was just time for it, that's all," he said at last, eyes still fixated on the court.

Suddenly, Fuji was filled with a distinct sensation of dread. Something in him didn't like the suggestive tone in the younger man's voice. He didn't know what it meant, but he didn't like it at all.

"What are you talking about, Momo?" he hissed, glaring daggers at the younger man.

Momo was silent again, but he slowly brought his hand upward. Much to Fuji's confusion, he held up all five fingers. One by one, he began pulling down each of them, counting off as he began listing something aloud.

"Working it backwards, it should go something like this… Taka-san got engaged to Hoshina-san. I moved in with Eiji-senpai. Viper went to Kyushu to room with Inui-senpai. Tezuka-buchou left for Germany. You and Oishi-senpai started school in Europe."

Fuji stared in absolute bewilderment as he watched each finger go down. Momo glanced sideways at the tensai again.

"It's in the same order that Echizen saw us again, isn't it?"

Suddenly, Fuji felt as though he were standing on a cliff, and that at any second, those knowing violet eyes were going to push him over the edge.

He didn't know what Momo was talking about. Which was exactly the problem. He always knew what Momo was talking about. Momo was the most transparent person in the entire world.

… Wasn't he?

Momo hesitated for a moment, putting his fingers back up to start counting again.

"And then, working backwards the same way… Oishi-senpai said goodbye to Eiji-senpai, and severed their friendship. You left early on purpose to go to Paris, which resulted in Tezuka-buchou finally rejecting his scholarship in Kyoto. Months earlier, Tezuka-buchou hurt himself because of you, and because of Echizen… Right?"

Fuji's sky blue eyes were fixated on Momo. That knowing voice rang in his ears, making his heart beat faster. His eyes were getting wider with something like anticipation, as the power player went on…

"So, let's say that a person wanted to reverse those events by working through them backwards, in that exact same order, to correct everything that went wrong," Momo continued, explaining very lightly, as though he were extremely detached from what he was saying.

"If that were the case, it might go something like this… Wait for Echizen to confront Oishi-senpai about his feelings for Eiji-senpai, which would force the Golden Pair to face what happened."

A painful grin was starting to slip onto Fuji's mouth. Now he understood.

"Then, perhaps, let Echizen be confronted by the tensai whose rebel behavior made our captain run away to Germany. Maybe on a rooftop, on a certain hotel…"

"You bastard," Fuji interjected, that same wild grin on his face. Momo went on.

"And then, encourage Echizen to confront Tezuka-buchou about his mysterious injury, the one no one could confirm actually happened."

Momo let his hand drop down to his side again, still staring at the court. A slight smile was on his lips, but there was no mirth in it.

"And where did it all start? Right here on this court, when Echizen challenged Tezuka-buchou to their final match, just before he left five years ago. But once the rest fell into place, that part took care of itself."

He nodded toward where Ryoma was still serving the ball.

"And as we speak, I'm sure that Oishi-senpai has already confessed the feelings he's had for Eiji-senpai for almost four years now."

For a moment, both Fuji and Momo stood in silence, listening to the lone sound of the tennis ball being hit again and again.

Then Momo turned to Fuji again, with an almost sly grin on his lips.

"Checkmate, Fuji-senpai."

Fuji shuddered, even though that sadistic smile was still playing on his mouth.

To think that he, the tensai, had been outplayed…

"You used him!" he cried, almost viciously. "You used Echizen like a pawn, didn't you? Momoshiro, you used him as a tool, to reverse everything that went wrong… You had it all planned out, his every move…"

"And if I did?" Momo said quietly, crossing his arms as he stared at the court.

"Then you manipulated him, Momoshiro? And you have no qualms about it? That's cold-blooded, especially for someone like you…"

"As for that, I didn't need to do much in the way of manipulation. In fact, my only role worth mentioning was to play along with your little game. I had to let myself get dead drunk so that you would feel confident about confronting him," interrupted Momo, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Something in that careless reply infuriated the tensai. He shot forward and grabbed Momo's arm, gripping it so tightly that the power player cringed.

"Really? So you knew just what you were doing, all along? There's just one problem, Momoshiro. It makes no sense, even for you."

Momo did a double take at that.

"What do you mean, Fuji-senpai?" he murmured, almost whispering it, with a frown on his mouth.

"There's no motive for you to do something like that. I thought you loved Echizen. And look at those two now. Don't you see what you've done here?"

Painfully, Fuji thrust an arm toward the chain link fence, pointing angrily at the two figures on the court.

For a second, Momo was silent, and Fuji thought he read some kind of sorrow in those purple eyes. But it was gone before he could confirm it.

"Yes, I know that," was the prompt reply.

"Then why?" Fuji cried, letting his arms drop helplessly. "If you don't want Echizen, then what do you want?"

"What do I want, Fuji-senpai?" Momo repeated.

He turned back toward the court and leaned against the chain link fence, watching the every move of the world famous teenager. And then he looked back at Fuji, and there was nothing but sincerity shining in his dark eyes.

"I want you to be happy, Fuji-senpai."

…

"Momo, I don't know what to do… My girlfriend just broke up with me, and I… I can't call Oishi, and I'm so lonely, and I don't know what else to do…"

"I just wish I hadn't done it. I don't know why I did… When I tell myself that I hit Fuji, I get this sick feeling inside, and I just want to disappear. I don't know why I acted that way… It wasn't Fujiko-chan's fault…"

"I've decided to put my notebooks away for good, Momoshiro. I can't stand to take data on any of them anymore. It's getting too painful to watch…"

"You stupid idiot! I swear I'll never forgive you! What's the matter with you? How can you just give up like this? Echizen wouldn't like it. I… I don't like it, you moron!"

…

"I just want everyone to be happy," Momo added, almost in a whisper, as his eyes grew distant again.

At that, Fuji didn't know whether to laugh or to cry with sheer pain.

"You wanted us to be happy?" he repeated incredulously. "How will this make everyone happy? Instead of watching one pillar break… We're going to lose them both!"

"I don't know about that," Momo interrupted, his hands tightening around the unforgiving metal fence. "But I do know one thing…"

He looked straight into Fuji's blue eyes again, and for the first time, the tensai knew what it was to be condemned by another person.

"I know that you had your way for the past two years, and your way was nothing but a nightmare."

Fuji was speechless. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that this man, this boy he had always known was the most transparent person alive…

He couldn't believe that Momo had so completely perceived the situation, right down to the last detail. Nor could he believe the way that he had taken it upon himself to reverse it, without the slightest detection on Fuji's part. He couldn't believe it…

How had Momo known everything all along? About all of them? About Tezuka's injury, even? That was the most carefully kept secret of them all, but Momo, it appeared, had already known about it.

"How?" Fuji couldn't help whispering.

Momo said nothing, simply staring in front of him at the two familiar figures on the court.

Suddenly, the flash of an idea came into Fuji's mind, and he laughed with a hollow kind of mirth. He had forgotten that Momo, too, had been Seigaku's captain once.

"So that's it, is it?" he muttered. "That's how you knew. You pillars are all alike…"

For a moment, it seemed to Fuji as though Momo hadn't even heard him. But then, slowly, the younger man shook his head, and for the first time, Fuji could clearly see the regret in those purple eyes.

"I'm no pillar, Fuji-senpai," he said sadly. "I've never been one. And since I couldn't be one… This is the only thing that I could do. Watch, and wait… And believe that everything would be alright."

His expression grew softer, as he watched Ryoma come up to the net and hit a perfect volley.

"I would never flatter myself, to believe that I could become a pillar. Watching them, when they're like this… Watching them play makes me understand that," he added quietly, nodded toward the court.

Fuji turned to see for himself, and he watched Tezuka, in a sudden burst of agility, catch up to one of Ryoma's most difficult shots. Looking at the former captain's eyes in that moment, he could see it.

The only thing in Tezuka's eyes was Ryoma.

On that court, in that moment… For Tezuka, there was no one else alive in the world.

And when Fuji looked at Ryoma, catching a glimpse of the emotion in those golden eyes… To him, they were nothing but a mirror of the former captain's eyes. It was a look he remembered well, one he hadn't forgotten… And even in five years, it hadn't changed at all.

The tensai smiled, even though it hurt.

"You're right. They're always like that," he admitted painfully, eyes shutting tight. "It's just the way they are… Up there in their own blue sky."

He clenched his teeth, trying to still the pain that was rising in his heart.

"They're such fools, really… Never even realizing how much we love them. Never even remembering that we exist, that we've never done anything but chase after them…"

"And so we follow them up into the sky, right, Fuji-senpai?" Momo volunteered, with a slight smile.

Fuji's eyes opened wide again, as he thought about this.

"Is that it, then? Maybe we were up in the sky, like that, with them…"

The tensai paused, unsure of what to say. It was as though something was on the tip of his tongue, something that he didn't have the words to express.

"Maybe they were just teaching us how to fly," added Momo, almost helpfully, as he clasped his hands behind his back with a light gesture.

Fuji's eyes grew distant, as he thought of the thrill of facing a boy on a court in the rain… Of the anticipation of facing off against a captain, as a true rival… It had been five years, but he could still remember the rush of those feelings.

"Maybe so," he said softly.

And as Fuji stood there, thinking of those faded memories, he was overcome with a sudden feeling of defeat.

This was it. It was over.

There was no place for him, between two pillars. He was a tensai, he was a fallen angel, but he wasn't a pillar. He wasn't, and there was no way that he could hope to become one. And he was through with chasing something that he could never catch.

"Maybe so," he repeated under his breath. "But I can't fly with them anymore."

And before Momoshiro knew it, Fuji was gone. The power player stood there, staring into the darkness for a moment, trying to make out the tensai's fragile form. But the shorter man had disappeared.

Momo turned back toward the court, and was thinking of disappearing himself, when his eyes opened wide in surprise.

Tezuka, former captain of Seigaku, was on his knees.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Tezuka Kunimitsu felt as though an eternity had passed since Echizen had thrown the racquet into his hand. It was as if time itself was playing in slow motion, painfully rewinding until he could see for himself, beyond the shadow of a doubt, exactly where he had gone wrong.

To have a racquet in his grasp again…

He would have never guessed that it could have been so painful.

As Echizen served for what must have been the thousandth time, Tezuka felt himself lunge forward toward the ball. But the strain had finally brought the former captain to an impasse. The racquet flew out of his throbbing right hand, and Tezuka stumbled and finally fell to the ground.

Tezuka Kunimitsu was on his knees.

In that moment, Tezuka understood. He knew exactly why Echizen had asked him to come to this court…

…

Echizen, become Seigaku's pillar of support!

…

Ryoma lowered his racquet at the sight of the fallen captain. He stared at that kneeling figure, with a mixture of regret and frustration shining in his golden eyes. And without a word, he began walking up to the net.

Tezuka watched from the ground, trying to catch his breath, as Ryoma took step after step toward him. To both of them, it was as though the entire world was silent, a gaping void filled with nothing but darkness.

Ryoma came up to the net, and he stared down at Tezuka.

"You were the pillar, Tezuka-buchou," he said at last, in a pained voice.

Tezuka wanted to respond, but he couldn't say a word.

"You were the pillar, and you failed," he added, his voice getting louder.

In Tezuka's eyes, he saw a mirror of himself standing before him, declaring his every mistake for the world to judge.

"You failed them, Buchou. Every last one of them!" Ryoma exclaimed, the tension evident in his face. "You let them fall. You ran away, you left them hanging on a thread, you let them fall apart. But most of all…"

Ryoma took a deep breath.

"Most of all, I failed. I failed you, Buchou."

Tezuka's eyes widened in shock.

He could hear Ryoma's voice start to tremble.

"I ran away before I could fulfill your request. You told me to leave no regrets behind. But I… I left behind the biggest regret of my life, and I left it where I couldn't see the pain that I caused."

…

"You want to know who's to blame for everything falling apart, Echizen? … You're the one who made our strongest pillar crumble into dust and blow away in the wind."

…

There were tears coming into Ryoma's eyes now, shining tears that seemed to Tezuka to sparkle like gold.

"I failed you, Tezuka-buchou. But I won't fail you now. And so, Buchou…"

Ryoma took a deep breath, letting the tears fall down his face.

"I'm not leaving. I won't leave you this time. But there's something you have to do for me."

Tezuka had caught his breath by this point, though he was still on his knees. He was listening intently to every word the teenager said. But this last sentence surprised him.

"Something I have to do for you?" the former captain repeated, with confusion in his eyes.

Ryoma smiled, even through his tears.

"Yes, Buchou. I need you to do something. If I had never run away, then I…" Here Ryoma's voice started to catch in his throat. For a split second, Tezuka saw something in those golden eyes that he had never noticed before.

Oh, God… he didn't actually…

"I might have said something very different, if I had never left back then," Ryoma finally managed with difficulty. It was growing harder and harder to speak, as he looked down at Tezuka's kneeling form, as he realized the chance that he had lost.

But he couldn't stop there. No, he had to say it.

This was the only thing that he could do for them, for all of them, in his last unfinished act as their pillar. And so, for his friends, who were precious to him, he had to do it. He had no other choice.

He had to give up his hold on this man.

"Tezuka-buchou…" Ryoma began again, trying to say it.

He had to say it…

"Tezuka-buchou, there's someone you love!" he cried suddenly, passionately.

Tezuka's eyes widened in shock.

"There's someone you love," Ryoma repeated. "And you need to tell him!"

Just like that, Tezuka felt as though he had been shaken awake, that the last of the cobwebs had been brushed away, that the final shards of the nightmare had splintered into nothing…

He stared at Ryoma, blown away by the sudden sensation of clarity.

"You need to tell him!" Ryoma exclaimed again. "Because if you don't, you'll lose your chance. You'll lose him… And I don't want you to lose him. I want…"

Ryoma's voice lowered to a whisper. He could barely speak now.

"I want you both to be happy."

Ryoma gripped his racquet tightly, holding it to his chest, as he murmured his final wish.

"Please, be happy, Buchou."

Slowly, Tezuka felt the strength come back into his body. He felt himself nod, still in shock at the words that Ryoma had spoken, amazed that this boy had seen so deeply into his own heart that he had awakened him to his own longing…

Suddenly, he realized something. Something important.

Something important that he had forgotten.

His eyes widened again in horror, and he sprang to his feet. Much to Ryoma's surprise, he leaned right across the net and grabbed the boy's hand, pressing tightly against it with his fingers. He had hardly finished muttering a sincere "Thank you, Echizen," before he released the tennis star again and dashed off of the court.

Ryoma watched, in a mixture of confusion and relief, as the former captain ran out the door and began sprinting down the sidewalk.

And then suddenly, he realized why Tezuka had disappeared so quickly, in response to his own urging.

Ryoma was instantly filled with a sick sense of dread.

- end of chapter twenty-one -

A/N: Well, I almost got this chapter done when I wanted to!… Gaaah. XD But at least it wasn't as long of a wait! By the way, don't worry, everyone; the story doesn't get more angst-ridden than this, and a happier ending is on the way. Also, I know this chapter was VERY Tezuka/Ryoma/Fuji-centric. That's all about to change in a very big way, and many of your questions about the other characters will be answered. Unfortunately, I couldn't fit the other characters into this chapter, just for the sake of continuity. But it's coming up in chapter twenty-two!

By the way, you may have noticed the sudden surprise of this chapter… Momo knows what he's doing. Lol! XD There may be some of you who are questioning my sanity in regards to that concept, but really, I can back up this idea. Momo has keen powers of perception, despite the fact that he is normally a very carefree guy. Maybe I'll address that issue in an FAQ question, and mention the plot points that gave me this impression… Anyway, I'm sure some of you noticed that I was hinting at this all along, mostly in the chapter where the Regulars who stayed in Japan take Ryoma to Taka's shop.

So… hmmm….

… Once again, I get the feeling that there is something I should be saying, but that I've forgotten it. O.O Well, in any case, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and the next one will be up before the end of the week. Really, no kidding! I have the second half of the week off from school, so that's a given. Hopefully that's a relief to anyone who may be on pins and needles, waiting for the conclusion. Which reminds me… My best guess as to how long this fic will be? About 25 chapters, plus an epilogue. I haven't written it out yet, obviously, but I'm pretty confident that it's a good estimate. Yes, it probably seems far away, but it'll be done before you know it! XD

Thanks once again to all reviewers and readers! I love you all. Let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-one!

Coming Up Next: Tezuka makes his own sacrifice, even though it may be too late for the person he loves. Also, Eiji is forced to look inside his own heart, while Kaidoh is determined to finally give Momoshiro a piece of his mind. Also, Ryoma has a confrontation of his own, with a person who is now on the very edge of desperation…