Hello anybody reading this!
Sakimi1014- Well, I tried for a little humor this time, but... Please don't get your hopes up. Humor will come more often once the main problems (The roomings, GakuXYuushi, AYAME, and the like) are brought more to some type of closure.
Shemeno- Thank you! I do hope this is soon enough!
Meino Nanako- There is absolutely no doubt that Tezuka wanted to punch the crap out of him, but a violent assault would probably look bad on his record when he tried to get into Seishun high next year, ne? XD Also, you probably get the feeling that it's not over between them and Ayame because it's not. He's a persistent little evil... -ahem-... Thing.
D'cute- Well, Ikasu is NOT dead, and in fact, will make a few appearances soon, if not around Akaya. The chapters, actually, are all about the same length, but lately they have been a little shorter because I have been busy! Sorry! As for MomoRyoma... Soon, I promise!
Kawaii-Gaara-Chan- Intense is fun. Also, Ikasu really is a good guy, even if he seems like he couldn't care less to most people most of the time. He's fun that way! (OC or not.)
Lucky.Shuusuke.Yukimura- Thank you very much! I'm glad that you like it!
DarkDemonCat- Poor Ikasu is so confused... I doubt even he knows what exactly is going to happen to him.
Blufox- See! See! Ikasu really IS that part of Bunta! -Very proud of herself.- Also, angst often brings characters closer together, so it's fine that you find it cute!
AnimeFan06- Yeah, poor Ikasu. Hmm... I wonder if he's feeling smothered? Everyone keeps hugging him! -Laughs.- Thank you, by the way!
Alaena Flame Dragonstar- Hmm... They really should. The only problem is that Ayame is probably beyond help. XD
Shimizu Miki- I saw that you had just had your last day of school and nearly didn't read your review! -Laughs.- I'm really jealous! Also, I'll try to get your advice to Ayame! (But he's a little thick, if you hadn't noticed!) Alright, now to answer the Ikasu questions. 1) He CAN NOT be gone forever, not really. 2) He's only gone now because he really cares about Akaya and left because Akaya told him to. 3) Bunta can use his Ice Powers. When he first activates them, it would force Ikasu out, but Ikasu can very easily shove Bunta back out without turning the power back off. Oh, and please feel free to print it out! I do not mind at all! I am sincerely flattered! (I seem to be flattered a lot lately!) I'll also do my best to post often enough for you!
ImmortalTigress- I'm really sorry! Everyone else is indeed still AROUND, I just got wrapped up in writing those certain scenes, I promise you they'll all filter back in, I'm just really getting through this here! As for the animal halves of them all, it's not exactly the main point. It is indeed a major part of the story, but this is more about human relations, you know? I'll try, however, to get it back in, it's just that these are human problems that I'm focusing on.
Vierblith- Well, um... Don't kill Ayame yet, whether Fuji agrees to let you or not, because I'm afraid I still need him for a while! When I'm done causing havoc, however, please feel free. Just keep in mind that there is a lengthening line of people wanting to kill him. I'm also glad that you like Kirihara now. I really like writing about how I picture him being after he decided not to be mean, so yeah.
RaiPheonix015- I adore both of the twins, honestly, but I favor Kouhei most days (Can you tell?). But I like Terry more than Tom... I wish I could bring some of the American team in... I love you 'I-am-a-rock' comment, by the way. Fuji, apparently, agrees as well (Um... In the chapter, I swear.) Ayame really is insane. The more I write about him, the more I see it. As for him possibly attempting to kill Fuji, it really is a possibility, but, as author, I'm going over options still. Ayame just doesn't get it, ne? By the way, Tezuka's crazy thoughts are just things that I've thought about doing to Ayame before. '... "LET YOURSELF GO!" Hahaha, how I laughed at that. Hmm... Using his powers on Ayame, though... A VERY interesting idea... And YES Ayame is VERY STUPID. Personally, I am fascinated by villains. I enjoy trying to figure out how their brain works, and finding the flaws in their plans. Strange hobby, I know. Well, your technically birthday was awfully packed, bu this chapter brings it's conclusion! Please enjoy!
KiriharaAkaya- Alright, alright, if you want to join the mob that is going to kill Ayame, I will not stop you. Just please, keep the blood off of the carpets, the tennis courts, and the manuscript. Thank you. As for Ikasu... I feel sorry for him, you know? And also, I'm sure he feels down right AWFUL about make Akaya cry...
Disclaimer- I do not own Prince of Tennis
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bunta hadn't said a word since that afternoon, at least, not that Yukimura had seen. Perhaps he had spoken to Akaya, but no one else, of that, the buchou was sure, as he had seen Bunta shake his head no, even to cake, not saying anything.
Akaya didn't seem to be doing much better. He sulked around, holding Bunta's hand, as if afraid the older boy would suddenly disappear. His eyes looked frightened as well, still rimmed with red and a little puffy, as if he had been crying. Yukimura was starting to worry about them.
It was dinner when he decided enough was enough. He had to somehow pull them out of their trance like states. Akaya was eating with his left hand so as not to let go of Bunta's, for goodness' sake! So, acting casual about it, sat down next to Shishido, and across for Bunta and Akaya, the seat on his other side was open for Sanada, making the fukubuchou sit by Atobe.
This of course, was essential to the plan.
"Ne, Genichirou," Yukimura smiled at the other boy as if nothing was unusual about all of this. Of course, Yukimura knew that to most people his behavior seemed unpredictable anyway, so this probably seemed normal to everyone else. Just weird Yukimura-buchou being his normal weird self. "Could you ask Atobe-san to pass the soy sauce?" He didn't really like soy sauce, and Sanada knew it, and gave him an odd look, but complied.
"Atobe-kun, could you---" At that point, Yukimura pushed Sanada towards Atobe. As he had hoped, their lips collided for one embarrassing and uncomfortable millisecond before both pulled back.
The entire room went quiet for a moment, as everyone tried to figure out if they had really seen what they thought they had.
And then they realized that they really had, and couldn't keep from laughing. Even Tezuka had to cover his smile. Yukimura looked across the table, where Bunta and Akaya were laughing like they normally would, Bunta even making kissy faces at the two until Sanada lashed out across the table at him, blushing. Bunta laughed a moved backwards, Akaya laughing to hard to react at all.
Yukimura smiled, and Sanada looked at him with an incredulous face. "Sorry, Gen-chan," Yukimura whispered, and made a quick motion across the table. "Sacrifices had to be made."
Sanada looked ready to object, and then smiled. "I understand."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm not talking to you," Jirou pouted, folding his arms across his chest. Atobe sighed, and placed his hands on his hips defiantly.
"Come on, Jirou, don't be so childish," Atobe argued, only causing the other senior to turn away. "Jirou, Only One... Ji-chan..." Atobe had to smile, despite the situation, at that name. "Come on, please talk to me. You could hardly even call what happened a kiss. It was less than a second and a complete accident. You saw me pull back." Still, Jirou seemed to have no will to speak with him, and Atobe sighed.
"Come on, Jirou... Forgive me?" Atobe was no good at apologizing, but had spent years now of dealing with Jirou's childish actions, and so was prepared. "Only One..." Atobe slipped his arms around Jirou's tempting waist and laid his head just below the base of Jirou's neck, on his back. "You know I... Care about you."
"Then why can't you say it?" Jirou asked stubbornly, but Atobe smiled only slightly. Jirou was talking. 15-love.
Then Atobe thought about what exactly Jirou had said, and his smile dropped. He allowed a bit of sadness into his expression only because they were alone in their room and Jirou was, of course, facing away from him. Atobe removed his arms from around Jirou's waist and moved back to sit on the bed that neither of them used. Quickly getting himself composed, he leaned back against the headboard, silent.
A few moments passed in silence, as Atobe wasn't sure what to say, and Jirou seemed quite content to give him the silent treatment.
"Didn't I..." Atobe said finally, "... Just say it? That I care about you."
"Maybe that's not good enough," Jirou answered, finally turning to face him, "Maybe 'caring' isn't enough. I care about my parents. I care about my dog. So what?" Atobe could see that this really bothered the volley specialist, but was struggling to answer.
He knew what it was that Jirou wanted him to say, but he couldn't. He didn't know why, but he couldn't. Perhaps it was because 'that word' was never used in his household growing up, or maybe because he had practically grown up by himself. Yes, those reasons were possible explanations, but why he couldn't say the words didn't matter as much as the general fact that he couldn't say them in the first place. Of course, he had said them before, to Jirou. He had told him when Jirou confessed, because of course Jirou had had to confess first, he had told him again after their first night together, and long ago when they were but children, though he had not known of that time counting for Jirou until meeting Jirou's mother.
So, it obviously wasn't that he didn't want to say them, but rather that he couldn't. He did love Jirou, of course he did. He would not be with him if he did not. Atobe had been known to be an ice-king, but he would never mislead someone like that, especially not someone like Jirou, who was so sweet and innocent.
Atobe sighed. "I'm sorry."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jirou froze at what he had just heard. Atobe, apologizing? Even when they were alone it was a very rare thing, unless Atobe felt he had messed up very badly. And, seeing as Atobe more or less considered himself to be perfect, Jirou almost smiled, thinking of I-own-the-world five-year-old Atobe, it was very uncommon for him to apologize.
Actually, everything Atobe was doing, sitting away from him, leaning back against the headboard like that, occasionally putting his hand over his eyes, all of it was uncommon. Very Un-Atobe. Jirou sighed and crossed the room to Atobe's side.
He wasn't angry now. It was difficult to stay angry with Atobe for long on a normal day, but when he was moping around like this, and admitting that he was sorry and that something was his fault, it was impossible. So, despite his earlier feelings of anger for Atobe never saying those words he most wanted to hear, and his jealousy at him kissing Sanada, even for as short as it was, he wrapped his arms around Atobe.
Atobe's eyes were stone, but Jirou understood. The buchou was in silent turmoil. He had seen this part of Atobe a few times before. When they were younger once, in the forest, when their usual high-spirited conversation turned darker, to somewhere Atobe didn't want to go. Again when they had first started dating, when Jirou had teased and pushed a little too far, having not known his limits yet. Another time when a Hyotei student accused Atobe of floating on only his money. As if he or most others in Hyotei could talk.
It was a look Atobe got when he was hurting. When he was feeling weak. When he felt that it was all pointless.
Most people saw no difference between Atobe's normal expression and this one, but Jirou saw it. Jirou saw every side of Atobe. Dimensions that most people didn't see because they only knew the tough captain, and the vain diva.
"I'm sorry too, Kei-chan," Jirou said, kissing him softly, waiting patiently as Atobe slowly responded. "It's fine if you don't say it," Jirou told him when they parted. "You don't have to, I know. I already know that you love me, even if you can't say it. I love you too, always." He kissed Atobe again, just in case the other boy didn't believe him.
"You too," Atobe answered when they came up for air. Jirou smiled. That was a lot better than the grunt he normally got in response, but Atobe didn't look satisfied. "You do know that, right?"
"Aa, but I sometimes forget things," Jirou smiled, flopping down on the bed beside him. "You might have to show me." He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and Atobe smiled.
"It'll be my pleasure."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fuji hummed to himself, smiling, as he let the paint brush run of it's own accord across the top-center of the door. He felt that perhaps painting a set of wings, one white and one black, on their door was rather boring, but nothing else would really fit. Actually, he had also thought of a smiley face and a rock, but, amusing as that seemed it would be, Fuji wanted something more serious, for this. So he slowly wove brown, dead thorns around the white wing and chains of fire around the black.
He stepped back to admire his work, and smiled. Deciding, however, that it was a little dark for his taste, he painted the rock and smiley face on the far bottom-left corner anyway. He chuckled and wondered if anyone would even notice.
And then he sighed. Kunimitsu had told him about the conversation he had had with Ayame, and Fuji was quite concerned. This Ayame was clearly not in his right mind. There had always been something a little bit off about him, but Fuji had always taken it for him simply being a loner. He had never realized that people were actually avoiding him. They all knew already, and Fuji had just been so preoccupied with other things that he had never noticed.
It wasn't like he had ever stood out before now anyway. He had blended in. He had little talent in tennis, and didn't have the same driving passion for the game as most of the other club members did. Fuji had puzzled over him once, but understood once he saw the way the other boy looked at Kunimitsu.
He had felt jealous, for only a moment, and then had let it all go. He had been thinking that, seeing as there was no way he could be with Kunimitsu some day, him, who knew the buchou so well, then surely this no name junior had no chance. Fuji had to smile though, thinking that despite all of his doubts, here he was, and Kunimitsu was just on the other side of the door he had just finished painting, no doubt waiting for him.
Then he thought of the other things that Kunimitsu had told him that Ayame said, and his smile dropped a half an inch before he caught it. He had been following him. Watching him.
Fuji now knew that the eyes he had felt on his back were not imagined, but it gave him no comfort. He didn't like the idea of someone like that knowing his daily routines, where he went, who he was with... Perhaps even his weaknesses. Fuji didn't want to think about it that, but knew that he had to. Ayame had said that he would leave them alone, but Fuji could not simply believe that.
In so many ways, Kunimitsu was still innocent, Fuji knew. Because of all the things the tensai had been through growing up, with how his parents were, Fuji had always been able to see people's real intentions, not letting a single action or expression cloud his judgment, but not everyone could do that. He knew that Kunimitsu couldn't. Because Kunimitsu still had faith in people, which was something Fuji had given up long ago.
Fuji sighed, and shook his head. He had other things to worry about just then.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Icy eyes swept over the room, taking in the moonlight, sweeping like a white, transparent sheet over creamy skin on the adjacent bed, the only other body in the room. A sigh slipped out into the air and was nothing within moments, followed by the slight tap of a head against the wall. Knee's were tucked up, one arm laced across them, the other hand clutching the shirt he wore, right above the heart. It ached terribly, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it.
His breath came out once more as a silent sigh, and he closed his eyes. He didn't want to be here; it just hurt him. He knew that, he was well aware of the pain he felt, the literal pain in his chest, and yet he came anyway. He couldn't stay away. No matter how hard he tried, he was drawn back again, like a moth to a flame. It had only been hours since he had decided to stay away, and yet he was already faltering. Drawn back to, by, a fiery passion, that was sure to do nothing but burn his soul and melt his heart of ice until nothing but water remained. The heat would remain, to dry the wet surface of the shelf where he had hidden his heart away.
And then there would be nothing left, and his own passion, whatever bit he might have had, would be blown out by the crosswind of this new, powerful flame. And then, when the fire dwindles, as all do, eventually, what would he be left with?
Pain.
There was a word he understood. Pain was proof. Pain was a signal, and as long as you could feel pain, you could prove your own existence.
He needed that proof. He had nothing else that told him he was real.
His heart throbbed again and he smiled twistedly. Then again, being real, having proof of your actuality, did not mean that you had the right to exist.
And that was fine too. He could live with that.
His body moved without, perhaps against, his will, and before he knew it, he was beside that creamy figure that called him back. He was in the flame once again.
Cold lips pressed themselves to a warm forehead, and then withdrew.
Ikasu sighed a third time, knowing that he had been enveloped in the flames again, but did not move for several moments.
When he finally did, he moved silently back to Bunta's bed, and sat there quietly for a few more moments, feeling the cold sweep back into his body.
It was a flame that would burn.
It was a flame that would destroy him.
It was a flame that was much to warm to live without.
He would have to though, he knew, because Akaya didn't want him to be anywhere near him. The junior didn't want to see him. Ikasu had decided that he would do whatever made Akaya happy. This was what he wanted.
So, Ikasu would comply, even if it hurt.
Clutching at his chest again, and with a final sigh, Ikasu drifted back into the far back of his and Bunta's mind.