Hey guys! Everyone have a good Christmas/Hanukah/New Years/etc? It feels like it's been AGES. Sorry this is a little late, thought. This is a short little transitional chapter to get the new mini-arc started. Well, let's get going!

Here We Go Again

Chapter Nineteen: The Pillar

Ryoma slung his bag over one shoulder and walked into the airport. All around him, people streamed in and out, back and forth. He snapped his gum and headed for the check-in desk. On one side of him walked Kevin. The blond was, like him, carrying a suitcase. Behind him, the regulars and Ryoga acted as an escort.

The two freshmen walked to the desk, leaving the other eight behind. They checked their larger bags and confirmed their flight time before turning back and rejoining their team. The large group proceeded to just before the security checkpoint, beyond which only Kevin and Ryoma could go. Everyone crowded around the two smallest members of the team, smiling happily.

"We decided to make a tradition of it," said Oishi, rubbing the back of his head as he stepped forward. The teen held out a small box. "It's another good luck charm, like two years ago. There's also some herbal tea in there, for your throat."

"Thank you, Oishi-senpai," Ryoma said, accepting the box with a nod.

"Oh, oh, oh! Me next!" yelled Kikumaru eagerly, waving his arms in the air. "And it's not from the airport shop this time!" The redhead held out a canvas bag enthusiastically. "There's a CD of my favorite songs, some tennis magazines – there are, like, five million articles on you in there, Ochibi – a new wrist band, and a Ponta, nya! And the bag, too, I guess."

The feminine boy opposite him smirked and accepted the bag. He tossed the gift from Oishi inside and looked over the contents as he did so. Kikumaru hadn't been lying when he said that his gift hadn't been purchased in one of the airport's stores; there was some quality stuff in there.

Next, Inui stepped forward. In one outstretched hand, he held a sheaf of papers. "This is a rehabilitation plan for you, containing the best diet and training regime to get back in shape while dealing with your lingering injuries. All of it is designed specifically for your body type, current condition, and personality. Please, feel free to email me if you run into any difficulties."

"Ah, I will."

Kaidoh walked forward next, tossing a single unmarked tennis ball at Ryoma. "We're playing as soon as you get back."

Another nod. The boy knew that this was his upperclassman's form of a present.

Momo stepped up wearing a lopsided grin. "I didn't really know what to get you, but I still hope you like it!" He held out a small bag carrying their favorite tennis store's logo. "There's some new grip tape in there, and a gift certificate to this burger place in New York that I looked up that's supposed to be really good."

Ryoma smirked this time and replied, "So senpai will be paying for me even when I'm in New York?"

"Ah? You know I can't understand you yet! Oi, Fuji-senpai, what'd he say?"

The brunet translated, and while Momo was distracted, Ryoma snatched his gifts and put them in the larger bag. Before Momo could yell in protest, the boy gestured, saying "next" with his hand.

"Che. Brat," muttered the trickster.

Ryoga walked up to his little brother with a cheeky grin and thumped him lightly on the back. "Don't you dare start slacking just because I won't be there, got it Chibisuke? Put this to good use." The older Echizen tossed Ryoma a new high definition video camera. "Videotape anyone who's worthwhile and have their play style down before you even meet them, okay?"

Ryoma smiled slyly at his older brother. "Like I'd need to."

The older brother ruffled his younger counterpart's hair and took a step back. "Do it anyways, you cocky brat."

With an air of finality, Tezuka stepped forward. He handed a pad – almost identical to the one Ryoma had received two years prior – to the boy. Messages of encouragement and signatures covered the white surface. "Don't forget; you will always be our Pillar of Support."

Ryoma solemnly accepted the gift from his captain and slipped it into the bag. "I won't disappoint you, Buchou."

Tezuka nodded once. "Don't let your guard down, Echizen."

After a brief pause, Fuji spoke. "Sorry, everyone, but could I borrow Ryoma for a minute?" Without waiting for a response, the brunet grabbed his boyfriend's wrist and pulled him off. Stopping in a secluded corner, behind a pillar, Fuji opened his eyes and looked at Ryoma intensely. He wanted to drink in every detail of the boy before he was gone for over two weeks.

"I couldn't really think of anything to get you," he said. He leaned in and kissed Ryoma gently.

The boy shrugged, which Fuji understood to mean, "I don't care."

In between kisses, (which Fuji had begun to call desensitization, the perfect cure for Ryoma's fear of contact) the brunet continued to speak. "I'm still not happy about this… You'll be… careful over in America, right?"

The smaller teen pulled back for a moment and glared. Fuji laughed quietly. "Okay, okay. I get it." He leaned down again and pulled the boy into another kiss. "I'm going to miss you," he murmured. Ryoma nodded his head slightly in response, proof that Fuji had gotten his boyfriend to open up quite a bit in the past few days.

While in the middle of another kiss, a devilish idea snuck into Fuji's mind. He unlatched his lips from Ryoma's and moved them down to a spot half way down the boy's neck. Setting to work before the other teen could complain, he began to suck and nip at the patch of skin. After a minute, he pulled back to examine his work. A reddish-purple blotch was appearing on Ryoma's usually flawless skin. "Oh dear," he said, feigning concern. "That looks like it'll be there for days. Too bad it's higher than most collars can reach, ne?"

The brunet smirked as Ryoma's hand shot up to his neck. "You perverted bastard!"

By way of response, Fuji pulled his boyfriend into a hug and gave him a quick kiss. "Just making sure all the Americans know that you're taken. Don't let anyone else touch you, okay?"

Despite his derisive snort, Ryoma didn't resist the embrace. He was definitely not happy about the prominent hickey on his neck, but he didn't want to totally ruin his last few moments with Fuji.

They stood together for a moment, memorizing the feeling of being together, before Fuji stroked Ryoma's hair. "Everyone's waiting for us, I think."

The boy smirked and let his hair out of its ponytail to hide the hickey. "Isn't that because you kidnapped me?"

"I suppose so," laughed Fuji.

The two walked back over to their teammates, and Ryoma picked up his bags again. The more observant of those present noticed his change of hairstyle, but since most of them at least had an inkling of what had been going on between their two pretty-boys, they stayed silent.

"Ochibi! Make sure you get us lots of souvenirs over there!" yelled Kikumaru. He pounced on Ryoma as soon as the boy had rejoined their group.

After he had managed to pry the energetic acrobat off of him, Ryoma smiled. For once, it was not a mocking smirk, but instead a fond little twist of the lips. "Gotcha."

"Take care, Echizen! I don't want to see you until you have a few more thousand dollars and a giant trophy, got it?" teased Momo.

Ryoma smirked and shoved the trickster away playfully.

"Good luck over there." Oishi was smiling encouragingly as he spoke.

"You know," commented Ryoga suddenly, "I hate to interrupt all the heartfelt goodbyes, but your plane takes off soon, Chibisuke, Kevin."

The two freshmen glanced up at the nearest clock and seized up comically.

"Damn it!" yelled the blond, grabbing his backpack. At the same time, Ryoma had snatched up his tennis bag, biting out his own expletive. They had fifteen minutes before the plane would board, and they still had to go through security and buy food for the long plane ride.

Ryoga, looking extremely pleased at the panic that he had caused, yelled, "Keep an eye on Chibisuke!" by way of goodbye.

Ryoma looked like he dearly wanted to retort, but there wasn't time. Almost running, he and Kevin proceeded to the security checkpoint. As he passed Fuji, the boy was sure that he felt the senior lightly grab his hand.

"Take care, Ryoma."

The whispered words echoed in his mind, even as he was going through security. After passing through the metal detector and retrieving his things, Ryoma glanced back. His teammates still stood in the same spot, smiling and waving goodbye. He smirked. Those idiots never change. For just a second, he locked eyes with Fuji. Just as quickly, though, he looked away. The next time I see those eyes, I'd better have a huge freaking trophy in my hands.

After that, he didn't look back.

He and Kevin decided to drop by a small coffee shop to grab water and snacks for the plane ride, because both knew better than to trust airline food. They raced through the airport's huge halls, and with no time to spare, arrived at their gate. Other passengers were already beginning to line up and board.

"Good, they're still getting first class on the plane," commented Kevin. At Ryoma's questioning look, he decided to elaborate (in his own way). "Nothing but the best for the prince, right?" he drawled jokingly.

"Tch." Leaving the conversation at that, the two waited in silence until it was their turn to get their tickets scanned. They boarded the plane, and as soon as they had sat down, Ryoma pulled out a tennis magazine and proceeded to block out the world.

Kevin, however, had been thinking about something for a few days and he wasn't letting his best friend off the hook like that. "So," he said, flicking Ryoma's head to get the boy's attention. "You and Fuji, huh?"

Immediately, Ryoma choked and looked at him with wide eyes. It was all the answer Kevin needed. "I'm not stupid," he laughed. At the same time, he flicked the hair off of his friend's neck. Just as he'd expected, a dark purple splotch occupied the space underneath Ryoma's jaw. Letting out a low whistle, he continued to tease his friend. "He got you good; that'll be there for a-ges."

The blond received a smack upside the head for his trouble. Still worth it, he thought.

Ryoma, who had covered the hickey again, made a series of quick hand gestures to say, "You will not tell anyone."

Still in a teasing mood, Kevin replied, "Why not? I don't care, they wouldn't care, Fuji wouldn't care…" At the sight of his friend tapping the tennis magazine pointedly, he continued. "Okay, well, the media might care, and your fans might care, and your manager might care, but what do they matter, right? And by the way, I still say you should learn sign language. It's only through our insane telepathy powers that I can understand you."

Kevin noticed that Ryoma was giving him "the glare," so he decided that now would be a pretty good time to stop. "Alright, alright, I'm just kidding with you. I won't tell, and you're too cool for sign language."

Ryoma held his glare for a few more seconds to serve as a warning then settled back into his chair. He was now in a thoroughly bad mood. Peroxide head had gotten him to think about his boyfriend, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. If he got too deep into the subject, it would take over his thought process and throw off his concentration. Due to the unfortunate way the past few weeks had played out, he'd been unable to concentrate on tennis. Of course he would miss Fuji, though he was loath to admit it, he already did, but he still absolutely had to win the US Open. For that to happen, he would need to shove aside any mushy, adolescent thoughts, and keep his mind solely on his favorite pastime. So as soon as we get off the plane, peroxide head and I are going to play tennis, jet lag and stitches be damned.

A popping in his ears alerted him to the plane's takeoff. It's not any use staying up thinking of useless things. He shut his eyes blearily. It was late afternoon, anyways, which was the perfect time for a nap. The plane's rumble was soothing, and there was a chink of sunlight coming in through the window. Staying awake simply wasn't an option.

Before long, he stood amongst thousands of nameless, faceless spectators. He was in a massive stadium, the same one he remembered from New York the last time he was at the US Open. Across the court from him stood a tall, muscular figure with his face cast into shadow. One glance at the scoreboard told him it was the final set, and the last point at that.

A vague, indistinguishable voice called out, "Match point!"

He smirked and bounced the ball in his hand against the court. He tossed the ball into the air and slammed his racquet into it with all his might. He didn't find it strange at all that he was able to shout along with the action.

The serve rocketed over the net and bounced sharply to the side. It was among the fiercest twist serves he'd ever been able to execute. His opponent was helpless against it and the ball bounced out of bounds before it could be returned.

As the referee announced his victory and the crowd burst into cheers, he gave his defeated opponent a trademark smirk. "Mada mada dane," he proclaimed imperiously. His voice, strong and proud once more, echoed on the court.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind with a gentle grip. "Congratulations, Ryo-chan," Fuji breathed into his ear.

He decided to let go of his pride for just this once and respond genuinely. Lightly, he placed his hands on the brunet's forearms. He let his head fall back and rest on the firm chest. "Thanks."

"Not at all," replied Fuji. Ryoma felt the soft tickle of the teen's head nuzzling his neck. Somehow, it felt… nice.

The stadium had disappeared at some point during the short exchange, leaving the two lovers by themselves. No longer did screams, cheers, and announcements echo through the dream world. Instead, the two stood alone on an unassuming tennis court surrounded by blooming sakuras and an early summer rain.

"Where are we?" asked the boy when he noticed the change in their surroundings.

"Where indeed…" sighed Fuji, burying his head deeper into Ryoma's shoulder. "You know, it really is great to hear your voice."

"Mm…" agreed the younger of them quietly. They stood peacefully on the court for what could've been days or seconds; there was no way to tell. Ryoma felt Fuji toying with his hair, and he himself was tracing lines absentmindedly on the teen's creamy skin. "Ne, Fuji-senpai?" he asked. "Can we stay here?"

The brunet seemed to find this amusing, and he began to laugh. "For how long?"

"Doesn't matter. A while, I guess," said the boy with a noncommittal shrug.

"Alright, then."

The couple stood silently again and savored their limited time together. Ryoma let his thoughts wander until they gradually drifted away altogether. He fell into a relaxed trance…

With just a simple jolt of turbulence and a flutter of his eyelashes, Ryoma was dragged out of his dreams. He thought of what he'd just experienced, even if the memory was already beginning to fade slightly. The stupid bastard's annoying even when he's miles away.

He looked out the window to see nothing but black all around. We must be over the Pacific… And if it's already this dark out, it must've been hours since we took off, too. Did I seriously sleep that long?

He must have, because next to him, even the hyper Kevin was snoring away. Glancing around the cabin, he saw that nearly all of the passengers were sound asleep. Seeing as there was nothing else to do and he wasn't even totally awake yet, following their lead looked like a good idea.

~X~

By the time Ryoma woke from his dreamless sleep, sunlight was streaming through the window once more. He sat up and rubbed his eyes blearily.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, so kind of you to join us," teased Kevin from the seat to his right. "I'll never know how you're able to sleep for so long."

Ryoma shrugged. He was still half asleep and therefore not in the mood to banter. "Natural talent," he muttered.

"Sure," said Kevin. "Well, Sleeping Beauty, we've got about an hour until landing. You actually managed to sleep for thirteen hours straight."

The boy nodded, since he could no longer grunt, and pulled out a tennis magazine and his iPod. He turned on his music and began to read. There were articles on the top players in the world (himself included), techniques, as well as major tournaments and matches that had occurred recently. There was coverage for the US Open, speculation, and predictions galore within the glossy pages, too. It was perfect to get his mind completely back on tennis.

Quicker than was seemingly possible, the famous skyscrapers of New York City came into view. The captain announced their descent into the metropolis, and they could soon see the blinking lights of John F. Kennedy International Airport.

As the buildings, lights, and web of roads drew ever closer, Ryoma thought back on his first Open two years ago, and of his teammates in Japan. He thought of Fuji and his family, and he thought of what the upcoming weeks would bring. Finally, he thought of his captain, and the words that had started him on his groundbreaking career. That's right. I'll always be the Pillar of Seigaku.

*Sniff, sniff* Ryoma's first hickey… I'M SO PROUD! Hope everyone liked the fluff, cuz you're not getting any more for a few weeks. As much as I love the Thrill, this isn't a total romance story. Then again… I've been thinking if I should take this out of the humor category. While I try to make it light and relatively funny, I really just don't know anymore. On the other hand, I don't know what else to put it under. Any opinions you'd like to share?

Oh, one last thing. Ahem, hem.

KYAAAAAA! Did anyone else see NPoT episode 1? I almost nose-bled to death! For those of you who haven't seen it, go track it down! IT! WAS! AWESOME!