A/N: You know, as I write this, I'm internally freaking out. I keep thinking everything is too obvious. :) So I hope most of you haven't yet figured out what's up with Momo and Kaidoh.

Special Thanks: To all reviewers, and of course, my beta: Asami-chann!

Disclaimer: Does not own.

Pairings: Thrill, Golden, Endurance (aka InuKai), Imperial, may mention others.

Chapter 4

"If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!""

- "If" by Rudyard Kipling

"Ryoma."

Fuji's smile was bright as he twirled some strands of dark green hair around his finger. There was an answering grunt but the eyes did not open and there was no responding movement. Just as well, though; Ryoma would never deign to respond with anything but the bare minimal - something Fuji had gotten used to and eventually found endearing.

"Are you just going to sleep the day away? Ryoma."

The younger boy frowned minutely but still did not open his eyes. "You're the one that woke me up too early, Fuji-senpai," he accused grumpily.

"I came at nine o'clock, Ryoma." Fuji's voice was full of amusement.

"You woke me up too early, Fuji-senpai."

Fuji chuckled, leaning down to peck the other boy on the nose. Ryoma's eyes opened and he stared up at the other with vague annoyance.

"It's 'Syuusuke', Ryoma. Syuusuke."

Ryoma snorted, rolling on to his side, facing towards the other boy, wishing once more he had his hat on him. Fuji had gotten rid of it as soon as Ryoma had stepped out of the house, using it as a distraction by throwing the hat into Nanjirou's face before grabbing Ryoma and taking off.

(Echizen Nanjirou was a frightening person.)

There was a flash! and Ryoma blinked the spots dancing in his eyes away before glaring up at the other, his annoyance more pronounced. Fuji's smile was downright gleeful, his right hand holding a camera.

"I told you I would bring a camera next time," Fuji chuckled, this time his gaze through the lens lowering...lowering...

Ryoma snapped upright, blushing vividly even as he made to grab the camera away from Fuji. Fuji held it out of his reach, instead pulling the other boy forward into a loose, one-armed embrace. Fuji candidly checked the film, amused as Ryoma attempted to squirm away before giving up and maneuvering himself into a more comfortable position. The park wasn't overly crowded, despite it being a Sunday, so they were able to get a rather private spot near a blooming sakura tree.

Fuji had provided the blanket which they sat on and the picnic himself, though Ryoma had adamantly refused to eat any of the food Fuji had prepared. Nanako had saved their date by supplying some food for them at the last minute, having caught the tail-end of Ryoma's complaints about Fuji's horrible taste in edible goods.

Ryoma had finished most of the food; his appetite seemed to return when he was with the other boy. He had been trying to take a nap - the day had given them nice weather and his stomach was full, so it was the perfect recipe for sleep.

Flash!

"Fuji-senpai!"

Fuji chuckled again, burying his face in the crook of Ryoma's neck. "Syuusuke, Ryoma," came the small chide, but it was muffled by tanned flesh. Ryoma was blushing redder now and his heartbeat had quickened with the feel of breath against his skin.

Ryoma scowled, but one tanned hand slid up to cover the pale ones clasped in front of him. Being Fuji's boyfriend definitely had its downsides but at least it wasn't boring. The sadistic prodigy always seemed to have time for Ryoma, and if he didn't, he made time for him.

Fuji could be annoying, and evil, and a whole host of other descriptions that were hardly kind. He could also be interesting, and amusing, and gentle, and loving, and a whole host of other descriptions that made him out to be an angel. (It also didn't hurt he was good at tennis.)

"It's hot."

There was no reply from the young man holding him.

"...Syuusuke."

The arms around him tightened protectively, possessively.

Ryoma felt hot breath against the flesh of his neck. Soft, quiet words carried in the air, so soft he almost didn't hear them.

"Just a little longer..."

The following Friday was a nice day, but Ryoma and the other Seigaku Regulars couldn't find it in themselves to enjoy it.

Non-regulars had been dismissed earlier so only the Regulars were left behind. Intensive training ensued, created by Inui with the threat of his special drinks looming over their heads. Ryoma was sure that if the training didn't kill them, Revised Aozu Super-Deluxe would.

There was a tension hanging in the air and not even Ryoma could remain oblivious to it. The pressure of it was almost smothering and it made the freshman prodigy frustrated, if only because he could not figure out the source. Everyone was acting normally: Momo and Kikumaru were talking boisterously nearby about some new game out; Oishi and Tezuka were conversing much more reservedly with Kawamura, likely about the upcoming matches; Inui and Kaidoh were stretching together, and he bet they were planning some extra training after Tezuka dismissed them; and Fuji was standing next to him, drinking from his water bottle, looking content.

It was a choking feeling and Ryoma despised it. His hair was on end and he felt that at any moment, everything would just explode. He couldn't see anything tangible but his animalistic senses were growling on the inside, waiting, like an animal that had been backed into a corner.

"Saa...is something wrong, Ryoma?"

Ryoma shook his head, tugging the brim of his hat down. He hadn't noticed Kaidoh, at least a court away, inexplicably tense as he glanced back at them.

Turning away, he moved towards the clubhouse. Tezuka had allotted them a ten minute break and Ryoma estimated he had about six minutes left. That should be enough time to get a drink from his locker and come back. The air inside the locker room was musty with the smell of sweaty teenage boys, deodorant, and all manner of things. Far used to it, it was easily ignorable; Ryoma went straight for his locker. Sifting through his belongings, a scowl surfaced on his face when he remembered he had drank his last Ponta during lunch time.

The vending machines were on the other side of the main school building; too far away to make it back in time. The water fountains would have been his next choice and he was just about to leave the locker room when he noticed a bright red can, lined with orange letters reading 'StrawberryxMango Delight'. Rather uncreative but it was certainly enough of an explanation for the canned beverage's contents.

It gleamed temptingly from Momo's locker, and it didn't take much deliberation before Ryoma plucked it out. It was decorated simply, with small pictures of a mango and a strawberry near the words and a nutrition label on the back. Blocky katakana spelling out Washu was printed on the side.

Strawberry or mango weren't exactly his favorite flavors - what could be better than grape? - but it was adequate enough to quench his thirst. Besides, if he was made to drink Inui's abomination later, maybe this would soften the horrible taste a bit?

Pulling the tab, he started towards the door as he took a large swallow.

Almost immediately, he spit it back out.

Dark crimson fluid showered the floor and the can dropped from his hand as he frantically scrubbed at his tongue with the sleeve of his jersey. The crimson liquid flowed out of the can, forming rivulets that trailed towards the drain on the floor.

Thick, metallic taste clung defiantly to his tongue, and Ryoma coughed harshly trying to choke it out. His sleeves were mottled with blurry red smears and the front had a few drops here and there from the initial expulsion. The taste, the smell - it was wretched, and it clung to his skin and the floor and suddenly it was the only thing he could smell.

Ryoma stared at the crimson that stained the floor. He was an athlete; he knew the taste of it, from injuries earned in the past. It was an instinctual thing learned from birth; children cried not only because the wound hurt, but because the color and smell and texture were all part of the warning signs. They accompanied it wherever it went, wherever it flowed-

Blood.

Thick, metallic-tasting, lukewarm blood.

Ryoma could only stand there - staring at it, not quite comprehending it.

It made no sense. Was it by accident? How could someone can blood by accident? But then why would they? Why would Momo have it? Why was the can saying it was something else?

His body felt numb, and cold, and he could only stare at the floor. Buchou is going to be angry. The floor is messy now. Ryoma thought, and then was surprised he thought that because it didn't really follow his train of thought in the first place. Was it shock? Was he in shock? It would certainly explain why he wasn't able to move his body right now.

"Echizen! Mou, what's taking you so long? Practice started!"

Momo's voice cut through the fog that had begun to settle on his mind - but all it did was clear it. Ryoma still couldn't think adequately enough, so he could only stare at the clubroom door as it opened, admitting the spiky-haired junior into view.

It was an interesting thing to see, Ryoma noted detachedly. Momo had entered looking a mix of annoyed and exasperated, likely ready to launch into a rant as soon as his eyes had set on the freshman. Then the smell had registered and his gaze swiveled downward - and suddenly, Momo didn't show anything on his face at all.

Ryoma wondered if he was in shock, too.

Momo's gaze rested on the spill on the floor and he had frozen where he stood, some steps in. His gaze did not lift to the frozen boy and his face remained expressionless. Ryoma could feel the weight of the hidden tension pressure down on him again and whatever had been there on the courts had come into the locker room as well; he knew that it would explode soon.

They must have been standing there awhile because then someone else had approached, calling their names. Oishi stepped in, looking relieved as he spotted them before he, too, stopped cold at the sight.

Ryoma had gathered enough willpower to lift his gaze, even as Oishi suddenly screamed out a frantic "Tezuka! TEZUKA! KUNIMITSU!" Ryoma stared up at the junior boy who was only looking at the thin, bloody river on the floor.

Momo knew what was in that can, Ryoma was sure of it.

Momo was going to drink blood.

"First off, I am not aware of any name for our kind; no elders from our village have ever mentioned anything of demons that drink blood."

Humans don't drink blood, do they?

There was the sound of people running and Oishi was looking at him now but the expression on his face was strange. Ryoma could not place it; was it worry? Fear? Anger? Oishi looked so confounded and Ryoma distantly felt a bit guilty about making Oishi feel that way but the shock was still choking him, freezing his limbs.

Everyone was in the locker room now and Ryoma could not, for the life of him, remember them coming in. They stood on the opposite side of him and all were looking at the mess, then to him - and it was suffocatingly quiet.

Quiet, quiet... like back in his hotel room. When he was the only living person in it.

Was he the only living person in the clubroom right now?

"Oh god."

It was in English and really, he wondered if any of them knew what he had said - but whatever it may be, it caused them to snap out of whatever daze they had been in. Or perhaps he was the one in the daze and now things were just getting clearer for him? It was so hard to tell, everything seemed so-so-

He stared at the sleeve of his jersey. It was smeared red. With blood.

Tezuka - Does Buchou drink blood, too? - was ordering Momo to clean it up and the junior had descended to the floor with a towel, trying to mop up all the blood. The puddle was gone but now it was all one huge bloody smear.

A cold, familiar hand gripped his wrist and it tugged him back to be held against a firm chest. Ryoma didn't want to think of the lack of warmth, he really didn't, so he tried to concentrate on something else, anything else-

His eyes landed on the spilled can as Kaidoh went to pick it up. Black, bolded katakana seemed to spring out from the cylinder: 'Washu'. Ryoma knew that name, was so familiar with it it was almost sickening but he couldn't deny it, couldn't push the memories back down.

Fuji sipped at his can of tomato juice, sitting on Ryoma's bed as they watched a movie together.

Kikumaru jumped excitedly around his doubles partner as Oishi drank from a can of orange-melon juice with a familiar brand. Kikumaru stole it from his hands, taking a large gulp himself before handing it back with a quick kiss.

Kaidoh scowled, gripping his tin bottle of what appeared to be vitamin water, warily watching Inui as he held out a cup of questionable juice.

Tezuka wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel after playing an intense practice match with Ryoma. He drank from a tinned bottle of vitamin water, of the same brand as Kaidoh's.

Inui took a quick swig from Kaidoh's tinned water bottle after they had finished their final laps, giving the viper a rare genuine smile.

Kawamura smiled encouragingly at Momo, handing him a can of Washu's Watermelon Sports Drink, drinking from his own can.

"Ryoma. Ryoma, look at me." Fuji's voice called to him and the freshman realized his face was being gently held between two soft hands. Two soft, cold hands.

He was shaking, too, and one hand had instinctually clung to something for stability - which happened to be Fuji - so he quickly let go. He tried to back away but his legs were weak and he stumbled back into Fuji's arms. "Ryoma, it's okay," Fuji murmured soothingly, twining his arms around the other in an embrace.

Don't touch me! Ryoma wanted to snap, because something in him was screaming for him to run, some basic instinct that was fighting to get out.

"Echizen, calm down-"

"He's shaking, he must be in shock-"

"-get something cold-"

"-I'll get-"

"Fuji, can you pick him up?"

"-let's get him out of here, I think the sight of it-"

"-damnit, Momo, why the hell-"

"Ryoma, come on."

Fuji easily lifted him into his arms and Ryoma couldn't fight him, even say anything to make his will known.

The air outside was fresh and Ryoma could feel the clean air filter into his lungs. He might as well have been swimming in blood inside the clubroom; it seemed to be the only thing he could have seen or smelled. Tezuka and Kawamura had accompanied the two outside, leaving Oishi, Inui, Momo, and Kaidoh inside to clean the mess. Kikumaru had run off earlier, presumably to get something to drink for the freshman.

Setting the golden-eyed boy gently down on a bench, Fuji managed to coerce him out of his jersey jacket and Ryoma felt a sense of relief that the blood-stained clothing was off of him. Fuji threw his own jersey jacket over Ryoma's shoulders, rubbing his arms comfortingly.

"Maybe we should put him in the standard shock position?" Kawamura suggested softly. Ryoma's eyes snapped to the brunette, blazing, as if daring the other boy to even try and touch him. Fuji tutted softly, drawing back Ryoma's attention.

Tezuka glanced around the empty tennis courts; this was one of the reasons he was glad they had graduated into high school. The tennis club's coach didn't need to always be out supervising them as most decisions were left to the current captain. At least they could deal with this problem where no one could hear them.

It was rather late; only a few clubs were still in progress. Still, as it was, they were left alone on the tennis courts. The only problem was what they would do if Ryoma reacted - violently to the news. Still, they had kept this secret for too long and while they had argued about telling him sooner, it seemed they couldn't put it off any longer.

Kikumaru ran to them, one hand holding a cold can of grape ponta. The redhead skidded to a stop before them, frowning as he held the beverage out to the freshman shyly. Tezuka was relieved; it was good of Eiji to remember no sudden movements.

Ryoma just stared at the can with a completely dead look and didn't seem inclined to reach towards it any time soon. Fuji grabbed it instead - slowly, of course, as to not startle the boy he was hovering over - and placed it on the other side of the freshman.

"Listen, Echizen; I think we need to...explain," Tezuka started off, and despite the situation, he still seemed to be the same stoic, unperturbed person.

Eiji pouted at the other, exasperation full-blown on his face. "Don't you think we should wait a bit? Ochibi is still a little shocked..."

"Yes, well, I think we've waited quite long enough, if you couldn't tell."

"Kunimitsu!" Kikumaru whined, and if Ryoma weren't already numb, he would have been more shocked by the sudden usage of first names. "At least wait until the others come back!"

Fuji sighed even as he took a seat on Ryoma's other side. "No, Eiji, he's right. We should explain now."

When Kikumaru looked ready to argue that, Kawamura intercepted. "More of us might make it seem a bit threatening, ne, Eiji?"

Oh, so now everyone is on a first name basis? Why didn't I get the memo? Ryoma thought sulkily - obviously he was still in shock and his mind had decided escapism was the best way to deal with the stress. Maybe if he just concentrated on the unimportant things, ignoring this entire incident, it would all return to normal?

Tezuka coughed to gain his attention (was it obvious his mind was wandering?), staring the smaller boy straight in the eyes.

"Echizen... we're vampires," the captain of Seigaku stated without so much as a glimpse of emotion.

Kikumaru jumped around the taller boy, looking irritated by the half-assed delivery. "Kunimitsu, that was barely any explanation at all!" the redhead chided, turning to face his favorite freshman. (Oh god, Kikumaru-sempai just chided Buchou! Ryoma's mind mourned, now certainly lost forever.) "What he meant to say is we're people likened to the mythical creatures known as vampires. We drink blood and we're sorta strong...and fast... but other than that, we're pretty normal."

"And we don't die in sunlight, as you can see," Taka added kindly, all soft smiles.

Kikumaru nodded, full to the brim with suppressed energy. It was obvious he was restraining himself from cuddling the only human present. "And we don't eat people! We get these cans of blood from Washu; they're like an underground vampire supply network. They have farms - of cattle!" Kikumaru hastily explained, at seeing the growing look of apprehension on Ryoma's face. "Anyway, instead of killing the cattle and chopping them up for their meat, they just take some blood...and that's how we feed," he finished lamely.

Ryoma stared at him. Then closed his eyes.

I think Karupin is running low on catnip.

"Ochibi? Are you...still conscious?"

Ryoma opened his eyes before the redheaded teen-vampire could attempt to revive him.

"...I'm going home," was his deadpan response.

END...Chapter four.

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