A/N: I know that this is an awfully short chapter, but I just don't have the time to go through this all. –shifts guiltily- Future chapters will be longer! I promise. Oh, and I named the park 'XXX Park' simply because I can't be bothered to look up where Seigaku is and an actual park that might be close to Seigaku. I know, I'm very lazy. -cries- By the by, I've finally discovered the line breaks! -cheers-

Chapter 1

And now, here I am, saving the world, thought Ryoma, disgruntled. Except, not really.

He swung his sword, feeling it come alive underneath his hand, and watched with satisfaction as the shadow demon gave a wretched shriek and died.

He hoped it had suffered a messy, painful death. He knew it hadn't, but he hoped anyways. A messy, painful death was the least the shadow demon and its kind deserved for having forced Ryoma to become the savior of the world.

This is my fourth night. Ryoma rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the thought. My fourth night being savior of the world.

The first night, Ryoma and Karupin had been tossed out of the house by Nanjiro.

Nanjiro had told Ryoma that he should expect to sleep on the lawn if he was too wimpy to kill some demons. And then Nanjiro had thrown Ryoma's sword at Ryoma, and by the time Ryoma had hastily ducked away from its sharp, pointy end, Nanjiro had already locked the door.

The bastard had locked Ryoma out of the house. Out of the house in the freezing cold, in the middle of the night, with instructions to kill shadow demons using a sword he had never before held.

Ryoma gritted his teeth at the memory. Stupid oyaji. What kind of father locks his kid out of the house? And he's supposed to be the reincarnation of the previous world's savior? That makes no sense!

Nanjiro had claimed that he was the reincarnation of the previous savior of the world. When Ryoma had questioned him further, Nanjiro had briefly explained: "Every time the world is saved, the previous savior is reincarnated close to the next savior. This is so we can provide the guidance needed. Of course, we also provide love and friendship and—" Ryoma had tuned Nanjiro out at that point out of sheer disbelief.

This was Nanjiro's idea of guidance? Throwing Ryoma out into the cold night with a sword he didn't know how to use?

However, much to Ryoma's surprise, killing the shadow demons had been strangely easy these past few nights. The demons weren't human, and they didn't even put up much of a resistance to Ryoma. And his sword…though he was clumsy with it most of the time, when he fought using it, the sword became a part of himself. And Ryoma could feel his energy humming in the sword, as if waiting to be released to cut a swathe through the darkness.

It was disturbing, really, how easy it was.

Ryoma shook his head, dispelling his troubling thoughts. The remains of the shadow demon had stopped writhing, and had begun dissipating in the wind. It was time to leave.

"We're going home, Karupin," Ryoma said to the wings furiously flapping him through the air. "Hopefully before some stupid kid takes a picture of us. Again." He grimaced at the thought, as well as the imagined reaction of his father.

The picture had ended up on the newspaper with the title: The Aliens Have Arrived! Nanjiro had snorted milk all over Ryoma's homework, and then spent half the day jeering that he had never been photographed once when he had been savior of the world.

It really had been an accident that Karupin had found Nanjiro's porn magazines in the laundry basket. Really.

Ryoma sighed as the wind stung his face, the roaring of the wind loud in his ears. I miss sleeping extra hours, he grumbled to himself. And my arms ache from this stupid sword.

This was only the fourth night that Ryoma had begun saving the world. And already, the late nights out were taking a toll on Ryoma's body. He felt even more sluggish in the morning, and was more prone to fall asleep during class. He became clumsy. And worst of all, as Ryoma had secretly feared, the level of his tennis was dropping. Not by very much, but the constant state of exhaustion he was in was enough that he sometimes lost focus and missed absurdly easy serves.

Ryoma closed his eyes in mortification at the memory of Tezkua's incredulous face at yesterday's practice. The ball had sailed right by Ryoma…

Suddenly, there was a loud shriek above the wind—Karupin—and Ryoma found himself descending rapidly.

"Karupin? What's wrong?" Ryoma twisted frantically, trying to look at Karupin, even as he landed hard on the ground, the sword clanging to the ground beside him, loudly. He grunted in pain at the impact, but still leaned over in alarm as he saw Karupin shifting again, changing into a cat.

"What's wrong, Karupin, why did you stop?"

Karupin meowed in reply, his meows seeming alarmed, but not hurt.

Ryoma scooped up Karupin in his arms, the sword forgotten at his side. "Are you all right, Karupin? You shouldn't—"

"Echizen-kun?"

The voice jolted Ryoma out of his examination of Karupin. He felt suddenly exposed, though it was too dark for anyone to see anything.

"Fuji-senpai," he called back automatically, and then had to fight the urge to bite out his tongue. He shouldn't have called out. Now Fuji would want to know why he was in a deserted park in the middle of the night, with a cat and a sword.

And…it feels like my skin is tingling, for some reason. The air is sharper, and colder. It feels like…Ryoma frowned in concentration, ignoring Karupin wiggling in his arms. It feels like the moment right before a shadow demon attacks.

Suddenly, Karupin leaped out of Ryoma's arms and bounded off into the darkness.

"Karupin!"

I knew being the savior of the world was—

"It's all right, Echizen-san," said Fuji, though Ryoma still couldn't see him. "I have him. Were you out late because you were looking for Karupin?"

Ryoma's mouth felt dry. "Yeah, I was looking for Karupin." He paused, and then added, "Thanks for catching him, Fuji-senpai."

And why is it so dark? whispered a voice in the back of Ryoma's mind. The moon was out when we were flying with Karupin…and it's so dark now you can't even see…but they can see you.

Ryoma felt tension thrum throughout his body, dread pulsing through his stomach. Something horrible is going to happen.

"Echizen-kun, you should take better care of your cat," said Fuji. He sounded as if he was closer—but how did he know where Ryoma was when Ryoma couldn't see anything through this thick darkness?

"Karupin likes," Ryoma had to swallow in order to continue, dread threatening to choke his throat, "likes to wander."

Fuji chuckled—

—and suddenly Ryoma could see again.

Silvery moonlight blinded Ryoma, and he raised one hand to shield his face from the moonlight, only to realize that Fuji stood right before him, staring at Ryoma while stroking Karupin.

Karupin didn't make a sound as Fuji looked at Ryoma, his eyes blue and sharp and cold and calculating.

"So," said Fuji conversationally, "It's a beautiful night, ne?"

"Whatever you say, Fuji-senpai," snapped Ryoma, unsettled.

The dread he had felt had receded at the appearance of the moonlight.

"Hmm." Fuji closed his eyes, and Ryoma felt much, much better.

"Shall I take you home?"

"It's fine," said Ryoma. "I can get home from here." In truth, he had no idea where he was, but he wasn't about to get up and reveal to Fuji the sword lying in the grass beside him.

Ryoma had never seen his sword before, until the first night, when Nanjiro had thrown it at him. The sword was nearly as tall as Ryoma, which made it difficult to handle. But it was a beautiful sword: the sword pommel was a golden pentacle, while the hilt of the sword was a sleek, dark purple. And the sword guard was an elaborate piece of work, with details etched into gold. The knuckle block arched gracefully, resembling a half-opened wing. The golden quillions curved towards the front of the sword. Set on the quillion block was a blazing red jewel. Beyond the hilt, the blade echoed with sharp deadliness. Now, underneath the moonlight, the sword glittered like dancing ice.

I have no hope whatsoever that Fuji-senpai won't see this sword, thought Ryoma resignedly. He wondered if Fuji would get him trouble for carrying around a weapon that looked more as if it belonged to a museum than a twelve-year-old.

"Echizen-kun?" Fuji smiled. "Are you ready to leave, yet?"

"Fuji-senpai, why are you out so late?" Ryoma tried for his usual sarcasm. "Won't you be scolded?"

Fuji laughed—actually laughed, and the last of the dread Ryoma had been feeling seemed to shatter into tiny, insignificant pieces.

"I'll take you home, Echizen-kun. I can't let a kouhai walk home alone, when it's so dangerous at night."

Ryoma bit his lip, but knew that being stubborn with Fuji was impossible. He still tried. "I can walk home on my own, Fuji-senpai."

"I'm sure you can," returned Fuji. "But I'm going to walk with you."

Sighing, Ryoma cautiously got up. He braced himself for Fuji's gasp at the seeing the sword—

"Shall we go?"

Ryoma blinked and had to fight the urge to look back. If, by some infinitesimal chance, Fuji really couldn't see the giant sword lying in the grass behind him, Ryoma didn't want to point it out.

"Yeah." Ryoma held out his arms, and Fuji spilled Karupin over. Karupin huddled in Ryoma's arms, seeming torn between exhaustion and fear. He was also cold.

"I hope you don't live too far from here, Echizen-kun."

"No, I don't," said Ryoma, though he still had no idea where he was.

Fuji smiled again—he always smiles—and turned away from Echizen, moving through the darkness at a steady pace. Echizen stumbled after him, giving one last look to the sword. Karupin meowed plaintively in his arms, also peering back at Ryoma's sword.

I hope no one steals the sword before I come back for it. But there's no way for me to get rid of Fuji-senpai, right now.

Ryoma gave Fuji a sidelong glance, noting with some irritation that Fuji looked at peace, striding through the empty park with a serene smile on his face.

I wonder what Fuji-senpai was doing out this late. Should I ask? It's dangerous now, to wander around at night. Those demons might attack.

Ryoma's train of thought was abruptly interrupted as Fuji stopped.

"What's wrong, Fuji-senpai?"

"We're in XXX Park," said Fuji cheerfully. He pointed. "I just wanted to stop to show you the sign. Is your house close by?"

Blinking, Ryoma looked at what Fuji was pointing to: the sign read "XXX Park."

"Yeah," said Ryoma after a moment. "My house is just another block away." He was feeling somewhat surprised actually. I was so close to home, too. Why did Karupin stop?

"That's good," said Fuji. "I guess I won't have to walk you home too far, ne?"

Ryoma grunted in reply. His arms were aching from not only wielding his sword, but also from carrying Karupin. And he was beginning to feel cold. Ryoma could bear the cold when he was flying, but that was only because flying lasted around a minute before he reached the warmth of his home.

And it was freezing now, and he was shivering, and his teeth were chattering, and—

Whmp!

Ryoma blinked in surprise, the sudden warmth making him halt.

"What's wrong, Echizen-kun?"

Ryoma looked down at the jacket covering him, and then back to Fuji. "Fuji-senpai, aren't you cold?"

"I'll do fine without my jacket," said Fuji easily. Indeed, he didn't look cold at all, though he was clad in only a thin T-shirt and jeans.

"…Thanks," said Ryoma finally. Fuji's jacket was really nice. And warm. And the jacket even smelled good—

I didn't just think that, did I? Ryoma ducked his head, wishing for the security of his cap as he began to flush with embarrassment. I did not just think to myself that Fuji-senpai's jacket smelled good.

"Echizen-kun, if you don't hurry up, then we'll be standing here all night," called Fuji from some distance away.

Ryoma hastily hurried after him.

"So, you're safely back home, Echizen-kun."

"Yeah," grumbled Ryoma, who was remembering that he'd have to sneak out and get the sword back after Fuji had gone away.

"Surely your parents are worried?"

"Oyaji doesn't care," said Ryoma automatically. And then stopped, and actually thought out his sentence. "Oyaji was the one who made me look for Karupin."

"Your father sounds very interesting."

"Che." Ryoma shifted uncomfortably before his house, Karupin protesting drowsily at Ryoma's unnecessary movements.

Fuji must have noticed his discomfort. "See you tomorrow, Echizen-kun."

"See you," responded Ryoma. He turned to go into his house—and then hesitated. "Fuji-senpai?"

Fuji turned back around, smiling. "Yes?" He had only moved two steps.

Do you want your jacket back? was what Ryoma meant to say. Instead, his mouth betrayed him. "Be careful."

"Be careful?" echoed Fuji in confusion.

"Yeah…just…" Ryoma wished for his cap again. "Don't go wandering around at night. It's not safe."

"Same to you," said Fuji, with an edge to his usual smile.

"And you forgot your jacket."

Fuji walked forward—faster than Ryoma had thought possible—and before Ryoma realized what was happening, Fuji's body was pushed up against his, his arms trapping Ryoma against the door. His warm mouth was inches away from Ryoma's ear.

And Ryoma could barely think from the sudden heat and dizziness.

"Keep it," whispered Fuji, close enough for Ryoma to feel him breathing.

And then Fuji walked away, letting the cold night air fill the distance between him and Ryoma.

Ryoma watched Fuji leave, both startled and confused by what had just happened.

Why exactly did Fuji-senpai feel the urge to tell that to me standing so closely? And why did he have to say his words in that tone of voice?

Annoyance began to overcome the surprise and confusion as Fuji turned the corner, disappearing from Ryoma's view. Karupin stirred in Ryoma's arms.

Fuji-senpai is so weird. But, thought Ryoma grudgingly, his jacket smells nice.

In Ryoma's opinion, the morning arrived too early. Ryoma was dragged out of bed by Nanjiro's shouting, which was loud enough to even waken Karupin.

Sleepily, Ryoma got up, took a bath, changed clothes, brushed his teeth, and padded down to the kitchen for his breakfast.

He was greeted by the sight of Nanjiro hopping up and down anxiously, face wrinkled in worry.

"Where's the sword, kid?" was the first thing Nanjiro said.

"Don't have it," mumbled Ryoma tiredly.

"Then where is the damn thing?"

"At a park." Ryoma watched his cousin bustle around the kitchen.

There was an ominous silence as Nanako flipped the eggs.

"You…how come the sword is at a park?"

"I left it there." On accident.

"Whaddya mean, you left the sword at a park?" roared Nanjiro, who seemed either unwilling or incapable of believing that the savior of the world had abandoned his only weapon at a place where old women practiced tai chi in the morning.

Ryoma yawned.

"Hey, don't just give me that look! Answer!"

"I had to leave it," said Ryoma, impatience coloring his voice. "Fuji-senpai came, and I had to leave the sword. I couldn't carry around with me, could I?"

"That sword is an important weapon! You can't just leave it lying around!"

"I know where it is," said Ryoma. "I can just go and get it now."

"Don't think you can just get away from my lecture like that!"

"Ryoma-kun, here's your breakfast," said Nanako, who seemed very calm in comparison to Nanjiro. The reason for such calmness was revealed when she turned to Nanjiro, and said, "I still remember when Oba told me you left your sword on top of a building. At least Ryoma's sword is in a place he can get to without having to go through security guards and metal detectors."

Nanjiro sputtered indignantly, his face turning red as Ryoma smirked at him. "Still—I—!"

"When do you think you should get your sword, Ryoma-kun?"

"I could go now," said Ryoma indifferently, finishing off the last of his breakfast in a remarkably short amount of time.

"I'll go and get it," snapped Nanjiro, suddenly regaining use of his voice.

"Why is that?" asked Nanako sweetly as she took away Ryoma's plate for him.

"Can't trust young brats," Nanjiro grunted. He wouldn't look Nanako in the eyes, though, and Ryoma suspected Nanjiro's pride had been wounded at the reminder of his past mistake with the sword.

"Fine then." Ryoma grabbed his backpack and tennis equipment. "I'm going to leave for tennis practice. Itekimasu."

"Itterashai!" called back Nanako.

Ryoma let the door swing shut behind him, hefted his bag and tennis equipment, and sighed.

He was utterly exhausted.

Being savior of the world sucks.

Gloomily, Ryoma watched another ball roll sadly to a halt.

"Echizen, you're not trying hard enough," yelled Momoshiro, looking rather too gleeful.

"I can beat you," said Ryoma. "Mada mada dane, Momo-senpai."

Momoshiro looked upset, which was what Ryoma had been hoping for. "You can't beat me! Show your senpai some respect!"

Ryoma watched with satisfaction as the ball sailed past Momoshiro while he was busy ranting. "Your turn, Momo-senpai."

"What do you mean, it's my turn? You still have the ball don't you?"

There was a pause, as Momoshiro eyed Ryoma suspiciously, and then realized Ryoma was no longer in possession of the ball. He looked behind him, and saw the innocent green ball resting happily in the sun.

On his side of the court.

"You cheating brat!"

"Hmm," said Ryoma. "I'm getting bored. I think I'll go get a drink of water."

"Come back here!"

Ryoma walked away calmly, making sure to give a jaunty wave to Momoshiro as he made his way to the water fountain. He thought he could hear Momoshiro make an incoherent sound of rage, and his grin momentarily became real.

When he was sure that no one could see him, Ryoma slumped down in exhaustion.

Too little sleep, he thought. Not to mention, fighting was exhausting last night. Stupid sword. Who makes the sword for the savior of the world, anyways? Why don't the makers of the sword think about a twelve-year-old having to use this sword?

Ryoma rested against the cool stone of the water fountain, his eyelids strangely heavy. Though he knew that sleeping during tennis practice was tantamount to desecrating a corpse, exhaustion blurred his common sense. He couldn't fight the sleepiness muffling his senses…

There was a figure standing before him. Who? He—or she?—was limned by the sun, hair burning with color. As Ryoma looked more closely, he came to the conclusion that this mysterious figure was indeed male. For a few moments, the figure did nothing but gaze down at Ryoma, and Ryoma gazed back up, drowsily. Then, the figure extended his hand, smiling. Ryoma reached up to take his hand.

"My twin star."

"Echizen?"

"My twin star," repeated Ryoma. He wasn't aware that he was holding onto someone's hand until the low voice repeated his name again.

Slowly, Ryoma opened his eyes—and then winced.

Standing before him was Tezuka, looking none too pleased at having caught Ryoma sleeping.

And I'm still holding onto his hand.

Quickly, Ryoma dropped Tezuka's hand. He hoped that the captain wouldn't be too angry.

Unfortunately, it looked as if the hand-grabbing had indeed worsened Tezuka's mood. He stood before Ryoma with the air of a disappointed statue.

"These past few days, Echizen, your performance has gotten worse. As captain of the team, I would request that you tell me why." His words were clipped and short.

I knew that it would come to this, thought Ryoma darkly. He tried to think of something to say, but couldn't.

I'm saving the world in the middle of the night. I see shadow demons lurking around in parks and kill them off. I can prove it to you! I mean, I left my sword at the park yesterday. My cat can…change into wings?

Tezuka was his only rival besides his father. How could Ryoma explain this strange business he had been caught up in?

He couldn't.

"I can't give a reason right now," said Ryoma finally, when the silence had stretched on for too long. He saw Tezuka opening his mouth to respond and quickly added, "I'll try harder, though."

For a few agonizing moments, Ryoma thought that Tezuka would press the issue. Then, abruptly, Tezuka offered his hand to Ryoma, and said, "Yudan sezu ni ikou."

Ryoma was too relieved to make a snarky quip at Tezuka's trademark phrase (mada mada dane wasn't that much better, though—not that Ryoma would ever admit this, even to himself) and simply took Tezuka's hand, letting himself be helped up off the ground.

This is getting ridiculous, thought Ryoma, trailing behind Tezuka and walking back to where Momoshiro still waited for him, a scowl on his face. Ryoma still felt tired. How am I supposed to balance saving the world, schoolwork, and tennis practice?

Momoshiro's voice jerked Ryoma out of his thoughts. "Your serve, Echizen!"

Ryoma served.