Bah. I don't have anything to say, but the title goes weird if I don't put something in here. Thanks for all the reviews, as always. Saa, ikou.

Here We Go Again

Chapter Fourteen: Rain

"You sure you don't want me to go with you, Ryo-chan?" Fuji asked casually. Ayaka-sensei had asked Ryoma to get more water bottles for his class, to which he had complied, but Fuji had constantly been asking if he wanted help.

"I'll be fine, Fuji-senpai," the shorter bishounen repeated in an exasperated tone. Fuji was acting like Oishi. "It's just some water bottles."

The prodigy scowled inwardly. 'I'm loathe to let him off on his own, what with nee-san's call earlier, but if I press the issue any farther, it will look strange. I'll just go find him if he isn't back in ten minutes… Well, it's silly of me to worry in the first place. He'll be just fine.'

"Ii yo. Be back soon, ne?" the brunet said, tilting his head in false cheer.

"Gotcha." With that, Ryoma spun on his heel and walked off towards the school building.

Fuji gave the tiniest of sighs. 'Ten minutes, huh?'

~X~

As he walked, Ryoma thought about his senpai's odd behavior. Fuji was acting weirder than usual today. Not that it was his business what the team's genius did.

The tennis player broke into a light jog; field day would be over before he got back to the track at this rate.

'Where did Ayaka-sensei say the extra cooler was?' Remembering it was behind the tennis clubhouse (that was why she'd sent him, he practically couldn't get lost) Ryoma turned in that direction.

Everything was quiet, peaceful, even. There was no background noise, no chatter, no cheers. All people and sounds had been left behind at the sports complexes. He reached the clubhouse and began walking behind it when-

"Oi, brat!"

A large hand roughly seized Ryoma's upper arm. The boy's eyes widened. "Huh?

The small teen was thrown forcefully into the alley between the school and clubhouse and slammed against a wall, getting pinned there by the neck.

Clutching at the forearm cutting off his airflow and struggling in an attempt to get free, golden eyes finally fell on the man attached to the arm. Ryoma choked out one word. "Y-you?"

Another man's fist collided with his stomach at the same time that a hand grabbed his chin. "Leave his face alone."

~X~

Fuji frowned. It had been five minutes, so Ryoma should be on his way back by now. He still couldn't shake the foreboding feeling his sister's prediction had brought…

Flashback

The musical beeps of his cell phone broke the balcony's silence. Picking up the little phone from where it lay on the table next to him, Fuji shut his book softly.

"Hello?"

"Syuusuke, it's me." A gentle female voice responded

"Ah, nee-san. How've you been?"

"Fine, but that's not why I'm calling."

"What is it?"

"What's going on at school today?"

"Field day, why?"

"Hmm… I did a tarot reading on you just now, and I think you should keep an eye on those close to you today. Is there anyone you care for at school? Like, on the same level as Yuuta, care for."

Fuji's smile had long since disappeared and his eyes had snapped open. "There is one, yes."

"Really? Who is- never mind. Watch out for them today, just in case."

"Saa… I will. Thank you, nee-san." Fuji hung up, a look of deep concentration on his face. He glanced through the open glass door to Ryoma's bed, where the teen still slept soundly. "Nothing will happen. I won't let it."

Flashback End

Ryoma had now been gone seven minutes, however, knowing him, he would've jogged over to the school and not let the cooler slow him down on the way back. In all honesty, the freshman should've been back by now. 'I'm going to find Ryoga.'

~X~

Pain.

He thought he'd been in pain a few times in his life; obviously he'd been wrong.

Pain.

Shouldn't he be screaming for help? Probably.

Pain.

He writhed in his captor's grip, partially in a futile attempt to break free and partially in agony.

Pain.

Blows landed all over him; kicks, punches, simple hitting. He was on the ground, right? Yes, that would explain the hard, rough surface scraping his back…

Pain.

~X~

"Ryoga-kun, have you seen Ryoma?"

Fuji had left the bench where he'd been sitting in search of Echizen the elder. After walking and searching thoroughly with his keen eyes for a minute or so, he found the man taking a break from his referee duties in the bleachers.

The larger version of Fuji's roommate turned in surprise. "No, not since the relay. Why?" he inquired with a little wry smile.

"I think he might be in trouble. Can you help me look for him?" While ordinarily, Ryoga would've brushed the statement off, he'd quickly learned how little Fuji projected any emotion besides amusement. The waves of honest concern rolling off the brunet immediately put him on edge.

"Sure. Where do you think he went?"

"I'm not sure. Ayaka-sensei might know, though. She sent him to get more water for his classmates." Fuji's brow knitted slightly as he spoke.

It had been twelve minutes.

~X~

Red.

He couldn't see straight anymore, a bloody crimson veil had drifted over his eyes long ago.

Red.

"Aoi-… hand him o-… shirt off." They were saying something, but who were 'they?'

Red.

The world tilted, making him feel nauseous. Something was pinning him by the neck again… There was a strange sensation there, he could breathe, could gasp, and of course it hurt like hell, but something was… off.

Red.

Now his torso was cold, clashing in a grimly ironic way with the stinging, searing heat left behind the blows. He could feel skin when he got punched there.

Red.

~X~

"Ryoga-kun, can you check around the tennis courts? I'll look in his classroom." The two tennis players were running full tilt towards the school, their worry growing with each passing second.

"Aa." They approached the school and broke off, Ryoga headed left and Fuji right.

The prodigy raced to class 1-A on the second floor, throwing the door open. "Ryoma? Damn." The room was completely empty. On the other hand, it had a view of the tennis complex. 'Maybe I'll see him from there…'

Fuji saw him, all right, but the scene that met his eyes stopped his heart.

There was Ryoma, his Ryoma, pinned to the wall behind the tennis clubhouse by his neck. Four men were beating him mercilessly, landing blow after blow on his exposed chest. Even in the few seconds that he watched, one of his attackers drew away his arm from Ryoma's neck, letting the teen crumple to the ground.

Wait. He recognized those people. Kazuya, Nishi, Gorou, and Aoiyama. They must've held a grudge against Ryoma, then. 'But who would go this far?'

Horrified, he watched as Nishi said a few words to the group, kicking Ryoma's prone form. Gorou, seemingly in response, picked the dark haired teen up and threw him over one shoulder.

"Damnit! What am I doing?" Fuji mumbled, cursing himself. As he ran to the stairwell, he couldn't stop thinking about what had snapped him out of his trance.

After being slung over Gorou's shoulder, Ryoma had coughed weakly. Blood had trickled out the corner of his mouth.

~X~

What's going on? The hold on his neck was gone and he was on the ground again…

"Think… heard… -one looking… brat. Gorou… him."

The world swung wildly, then jolted to a stop. Maybe someone had picked him up? Either way, they hadn't done it gently. He coughed a bit, though that didn't help. The action had put some liquid in his mouth. It was hot and tasted metallic.

Whoever was carrying him began to walk, judging from the swaying. They were going to continue? Why were they doing this to him? He'd recognized Nishi at first, at the very least that made sense…

It hurt too much to think lucidly. A faraway voice that he thought was familiar swam at the edge of his fading consciousness.

"Chibisuke!"

~X~

Ryoga rounded another corner, calling his little brother's name. He now stood behind the clubhouse, looking around carefully. "Fuck."

On the ground lay a black t-shirt with several rips in it. The battered Ponta insignia poked out from beneath one fold of cloth. "Chibisuke! Ryoma!"

"Ryoga?" Fuji's voice called out from behind him.

"Fuji. Did you find him?" Maybe that shirt was somebody else's, then?

"In a manner of speaking. Follow me." The brunet had a sour look on his face as he started running towards the side of the school.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ryoga asked, keeping pace at Fuji's side.

"I just saw him getting beaten up here by a bunch of bastards that used to be on the team. They went that way," the tense prodigy replied bitterly, pointing ahead of them.

"What!"

"Ah, Ryoga-san, they need you back at the- Fuji? What are you doing here?" A deep voice called out to them from their left.

"Kid Captain! Good. Come on, we need your help. You said your grandpa taught you karate?"

"Aa. Why?" Tezuka asked.

"No time, come on. Ryo-chan's in trouble." Fuji was already running again. 'Ryoma!'

~X~

Agony.

During the trip to… wherever he was at the moment, Ryoma had regained a little of his strength. Going with his basic survival instincts, he'd struggled against his captors. That hadn't gone well.

Agony.

Muffled, garbled curses. Another heavy boot to his side. Then the worst part.

Agony.

A white-hot slash across his chest, going roughly from right shoulder to left hip. That hot, metallic liquid from earlier spurting down his chest.

Agony.

Every inch of him was in excruciating pain. Worse than when his broken racquet cut his eye, worse than when Akutsu threw those rocks at him, worse than each and every time a tennis ball had hit him, combined. So many times worse.

Agony.

His wrists were pinned above his head, and someone was talking. Were they saying something to him?

Agony.

Why couldn't he scream? Why couldn't he move? Everything hurt so much. 'Someone help! Fuji-senpai, baka aniki, peroxide head, someone!'

Agony.

The world was going dark, black seeping into the corners of his unfocused gaze.

Nothing.

~X~

There was the sound of movement up ahead, as well as a few voices. 'He's here, he has to be!' thought Fuji, feeling frantic for the first time in his life.

"He's out. The brat lasted longer than I thought he would. Guess that's the green light to have some fun with him, then."

"Nishi!" Fuji, Ryoga, and Tezuka rounded the corner. The genius had to seriously fight the scarlet haze of rage threatening to take him over. 'Getting Ryo-chan is more important. Getting Ryo-chan is more important. Getting Ryo-chan is more important.' Keeping the litany running through his head, Fuji examined the situation closer.

Nishi had Ryoma in a much more… suggestive position than before. The boy was unconscious, head drooping and eyes closed. His wrists were pinned above him, and Nishi, the one holding him there, was far closer than Ryoma would have ever agreed to. The worst part, however, was the bright crimson blood streaming down the teen's pale chest.

Still struggling against the urge to make each and every one of the men before him pay for harming his Ryoma so badly, the back of Fuji's mind vaguely registered Ryoga's voice as he attacked Kazuya. "Bastards!"

On his other side, Tezuka had launched himself expertly at Gorou and Aoiyama.

Looking deceptively calm, Fuji walked over to the stunned Nishi. "I'm going to have to ask you to unhand my Ryoma."

"Yours?" the man sneered. "A bit unfair that you're claiming such a tasty little thing. You really should let other people have some fun with the brat." Nishi's hand trailed down Ryoma's spine, pressing the smaller boy closer.

For Fuji, the man had just gone one step past the unthinkable, the unforgivable, things that he'd already done. Needless to say, it was the last straw for him. Doing what he hadn't since he'd dealt with the boys bullying Yuuta, the brunet drew back his fist and punched Nishi in the face with all his might.

Not even watching as the son of a bitch dropped to the ground, Fuji quickly turned and caught Ryoma gingerly. The boy was out cold, looking more fragile than Fuji had ever seen him. His beloved precious person, usually so brusque and cold, yet so passionate and fiery, drooped listlessly, sporting a number of ugly bruises and scarlet-dyed skin.

Kneeling down to gently cradle the teen in his arms, not even noticing the bright red blood staining his sleeves, Fuji turned to Ryoga and Tezuka. It was with morbid pleasure that he noted the three unconscious bodies behind them. "Ryoga, call an ambulance and your parents. Tezuka, can you go get the team?"

Both nodded, Tezuka walking off with hints of anger and concern in his eyes, and Ryoga whipping out his phone, still openly livid.

Slowly, so as not to jostle the injured boy below him, Fuji removed his shirt and pressed it against the still-bleeding-profusely wound. He didn't like the amount of blood that was beginning to stain the dirt around them, not one bit.

Gently caressing Ryoma's face, the only part of him left unharmed, Fuji wiped away the thin line of blood trailing from the corner of Ryoma's mouth. Pushing down the (dare he say it) panic seeping into his gut, he noticed the chill slowly covering his back.

It was raining.

… IF YOU KILL ME NOW YOU WON'T FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

R&R, even if it's only to yell at me, R&R. Now, if you need me, I'll be hiding in my bomb shelter 'til next week.