Shigeo Atobe was a powerful man.

Between running the second-largest company in Japan, owning a million-dollar reality show, and running prestigious outdoor events, he was soaking in money. But money didn't always lead to happiness, and Shigeo knew this better than anyone. Rolling his shoulders, he took a drag from his cigarette, sorting through an abundant stack of files.

A contract… bills…

Shigeo had a headache. He almost wanted to take off and leave everything behind – but he knew that would set a bad example for Atobe. Success was greater than happiness, and on late nights, with caffeine pumping through his brain, he needed to remind himself of this. He took a file, skimming over its material.

And then the damned telephone rang.

Shigeo cursed into the quiet of his office. Abandoning his work, he grabbed his phone and yanked it to his ear. He wanted to growl, "What the hell do you want?" but that wouldn't do in the corporate world. Instead, composed himself, and responded: "Shigeo Atobe."

"Oi, Shigeo!"

Shigeo winced. "Nanjiroh? This isn't a good time."

"You're always busy. Don't you remember the high school days? Ahh, all those pretty girls were always chasing after you." Nanjiroh dramatically sobbed. "You weren't even half as charming as I was! I don't know what they saw in you…"

Shigeo sighed, but his eyes crinkled. "Why would you call at this hour?"

Nanjiroh was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I need a favor."

"A favor? Your son is already enrolled in the training camp.

"Yes." Nanjiroh paused. "A bigger favor."

Shigeo wasn't keen on giving favors. Nanjiroh and he weren't even particularly close, although they had spent much of high school together. But he also had a reputation to uphold as a kind and giving businessman. He already donated to several charities to keep up his image. He also figured helping a friend couldn't hurt. Especially if that friend was a former pro – Shigeo imagined in the future Nanjiroh could repay him by helping Atobe get into the pro circuit.

"What is it?" Shigeo finally amended.

Nanjiroh made a sound of victory. "I have a problem."

"What is it?"

"Do you know Kon Nikolaj?"

Shigeo's eyes widened. Kon Nikolaj was a multimillionaire. "What about him?"

Nanjiroh was quiet for a moment. The silence stretched over the telephone cord, ringing in Shigeo's ears.

"I need you take him down."

"I can't do that."

"Shigeo!" Nanjiroh sounded outraged. "He's a danger to the other kids. Didn't you just hear what he did to my son?"

"I understand." Shigeo rubbed his temple. "He did quite a horrible thing. But I'm afraid I can't afford to give up that much."

"C'mon, you're rich!"

"Nanjiroh-"

"Can you think about others, for once? Your goddamn son is in that school!"

Shigeo licked his lips. "Atobe has personal security."

"Still, you're letting that monster coach the tennis team?"

Shigeo closed his eyes. "I want to help. But I can't."

"It's only a million dollars."

"Only?" Shigeo said tiredly. "That's a lot of money."

"Not for you."

Shigeo's patience was running thin. He understood that Nanjiroh was upset about what happened to his son, and wanted Kon out of the country, but Shigeo couldn't afford to give Hyotei a million dollars to override Kon's deal. He also didn't have the money to bribe Kon into leaving the country. He was rich, but not that rich.

"You know you could do it if you wanted to."

And Nanjiroh was right. If it really mattered to him – benefitted him – he would do it.

But why take a chunk out of his business to help a twelve-year old kid?

He knew Atobe would be safe. He had personal security right at his fingertips. Even if Kon attempted to hurt his son, Atobe had a security gadget latched onto the insides of his shoes, on his Bluetooth, and his wristband. If Atobe needed help, there was always a way for him to reach the police. As for the rest of Hyotei…

Honestly, Shigeo didn't care.

He wasn't a millionaire because he was kind.

He was a millionaire because he was ruthless.

"Sorry, Nanjiroh."

"Wait-"

Shigeo sighed. "I'm not changing my mind."

"I know." Nanjiroh took a breath. "But- for the training camp, can you at least tell your son to look after Ryoma."

"Look after him?"

"Atobe has personal security. I won't be able to watch Ryoma at the camp, and I don't want Kon trying to hurt him again. Maybe send a couple of your bodyguards?"

Shigeo rubbed his forehead. "If I do that, will you stop pestering me about this matter?"

"Yes," Nanjiroh said quietly.

"Alright. I'll see what I can do."

He was about to hang up, but Nanjiroh stopped him. "Hey, Shigeo?"

"Yes?"

"When's the last time you've had a friend call you?"

Shigeo's throat tightened. "What?"

"Exactly."

Shigeo swallowed.

Then Nanjiroh cackled lightheartedly. "See you later, Shigeo! I'm off to read some porn!"

He hung up, leaving Shigeo to finish off his paperwork, trying to wash away the guilt clinging in his throat with the reminder of what his real priorities were.

Atobe had had what could only be described as a horrible day.

He had lost two marks on his Greek test which had ruined his perfect record in the class. He had been set to win the academic award, but now he wasn't so sure. There were a lot of brainiacs at Hyotei, and only perfection rose above the rest. To make matters worse, the student council had decided to have a vote to decide if Kon Nikolaj would be the new coach. It had ended with a unanimous vote for Kon Nikolaj's favor, with only Atobe and Oishitari voting against.

Atobe wasn't sure if Kon Nikolaj was a true threat, but he had wanted time to come to a conclusion before the decision had been made.

It was definitely not Atobe's ideal day.

"Atobe-sama." His butler bowed, before removing Atobe's coat.

"Run a bath for me," Atobe said tiredly. "I would also like dinner brought to my room."

"Right away." The butler bowed again. Then he paused. "Although, before you head to your room, your father requested to see you."

Atobe stopped in his tracks. His father wanted to see him? Those two words were rarely in the same sentence. His father was always too busy to speak with him, and only concerned him with petty matters like advertising or security. He respected his father greatly, but spending time with him was always awkward.

"Is it urgent?"

"He said it is necessary you see him as soon as possible."

It was really not Atobe's day. Ignoring the frustrated protest in the back of his mouth, Atobe merely nodded. "Still run a bath. It shouldn't take long."

"Right away." The butler bowed again, and left the room.

He supposed there was no delaying it. Atobe headed for his father's study, steps quick and compact. However, when he approached the door, he could do nothing but stare at it. He hadn't talked to his father in almost a week. It was easy to avoid him in their large mansion, particularly because his father never really gave a shit about him. Atobe bit his lower lip. He knew if he wanted to be a successful heir, he needed to stop thinking petty thoughts like that.

He wasn't a child anymore that he needed his father's attention.

Shaking his head, Atobe knocked on the door.

"Come in," his father replied.

The study looked the same as Atobe had seen it the last time he had been here. His father's large desk was scattered with paper. A maid stood by his side, refilling coffee. She left when she saw Atobe come in. A large window for natural sunlight was adorned on the opposite wall, but the curtains were drawn firmly shut. Atobe didn't think he'd ever seen the curtains open.

"Father." Atobe nodded, taking a seat across from him. His father didn't respond, sipping on his coffee and looking over a booklet. Atobe noticed there were thin, almost unnoticeable gray streaks in his father's hair, and the barest beginnings of wrinkles on his face. He was wearing an expensive flannel with a thick gold necklace around his neck.

After ten minutes, his father put away his paperwork, and looked up. His heavy gray eyes lightened briefly. "Keigo."

"Father," Atobe repeated. He ignored the clench of his stomach.

His father didn't take long to cut to the chase. There were no "How are you doing?" and "How is the tennis team?" "Or, are you feeling okay?"

Instead, he said, "I have a favor to ask of you."

Atobe nodded. He pushed aside any hurt he felt. "Of course."

His father steepled his fingers against his chin, and leaned forward. His face was serious; drawn into a frown. "Do you know Echizen Ryoma?"

Atobe started. "Echizen?"

"He's a Seigaku regular."

"I know him." Atobe raised a brow. Where was this going?

His father nodded. "He's attending the summer training camp in July."

"The Hyotei training camp?" Atobe pursed his lips. "I don't understand."

"I know his father." His father sighed, as if he wished he didn't know Ryoma's father. "I allowed Ryoma to attend after much pestering from his dad."

Great. The brat would be training with them. Atobe smirked. This would actually be interesting.

His father noticed his smirk, and frowned. "Is there something funny?"

Atobe's face immediately went blank. "No, father. It was just unexpected." He looked away, staring at the sleek oak desk. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Ryoma's father requested that you take care of him during the training camp."

Atobe jerked his head up. "Excuse me?"

His father narrowed his eyes. "You heard me. You are to take care of Ryoma and protect him at all costs – unless, of course, it risks your own life. There will be bodyguards to aid you, so there shouldn't be much of a problem."

"But-"

"Is that a yes?" His father's voice was light, but Atobe understood the meaning underneath it. He didn't have an option.

"Of course I will." He scoffed, turning his head to the side. This was ridiculous. He wasn't a babysitter. What did the brat need someone taking care of him for anyway? It wasn't like the training camp they were going to was dangerous or something. His father was probably spoiling him. Atobe wasn't one to talk, but even he didn't have someone to take care of him.

Ridiculous.

He had enough on his plate as it was.

"Stop sulking," his father demanded. "This isn't a hard request."

Atobe crossed his arms. "I don't understand why Echizen needs me to look after him."

His father eyed him. After a long moment, he sighed. "If you must know, his father wants to make sure he stays safe from Kon Nikolaj."

At those words, Atobe was suddenly paying rapt attention. He straightened up, his blue eyes widening a fraction. Keeping his voice steady, he asked, casually: "Really? Why would Ryoma need protection from him?"

His father shook his head briefly. "It's a trite matter."

"I'm curious," Atobe insisted, almost pressingly.

His father flashed him a look, but consented. "A few years ago, Kon Nikolaj started a private business in addition to his growing company. It was hidden to an intense extent, and it was never brought to the public eye."

"A business?"

"Yes." His father looked reluctant to continue. "Sex trafficking."

Atobe blinked. Then he blinked some more. "He started a what?"

"You heard me." His father sighed.

"Why would he do that?" Atobe said forlornly. "He was already rich."

His father grimaced. "He didn't just start the business. He participated in it."

Atobe stared at his father. "That's vile."

"I suppose it is." His father cleared his throat. "It started off as just women, but it grew rapidly, and he – he started to make it less about consent, and more about sex slavery. He…" Atobe couldn't believe his ears. "He started selling people – not just adults, but kids too – to different customers."

Atobe could barely breathe. "What?" he said hoarsely. This man was going to be their tennis coach? He swallowed down the sick feeling in his throat. "How does this have to do with Echizen, though? He was always…scared of him. Don't tell me…" And suddenly Atobe felt like he was going to vomit, all over his father's study.

"It's rather unfortunate." His father shrugged. "He found Ryoma alone one night, and found him… worthy. I don't really know the details. His father brushed over that part. But he forced him into the industry."

"He kidnapped him?" Atobe trembled.

"I suppose." His father rubbed his forehead. "And sold him to a few customers. Himself included."

Now Atobe actually didn't think he was breathing. He could taste bile at the back of his threat, and the thudding of his heart roaring over his body. This couldn't be true. Echizen Ryoma – cute, sleepy-eyed, tennis star – Echizen Ryoma. Atobe squeezed his eyes shut, because even if he didn't know Ryoma well, this hurt. This hurt bad. Ryoma was so many things. Cocky. Talented. Smart. Prodigious. But he wasn't a sex slave.

His father continued talking, but Atobe felt like he was underwater, and the words blew past him.

"Nanjiroh – Ryoma's father – eventually figured out what was going on. He found his son. He got Kon Nikolaj arrested. But Kon is rich, and he was easily able to cover up the truth. He cleared himself from court, and made sure the scandal stayed down. I'm sure Ryoma's father could have started some media upheaval… but he was probably looking out for his son by keeping it quiet as well." Shigeo paused. "They moved to Japan to get away from him, and to allow Ryoma to heal."

Atobe shook his head rapidly. "Father-"

"So look after him at the training camp, okay? That's all I had to discuss with you."

"Father-" Atobe's voice and eyes were uncharacteristically wild. "He's being a tennis coach at our school. You have to do something."

His father blinked. "I'm aware of that."

"Huh?" The fire died from Atobe's eyes. "You already know?"

"Keigo," his father said matter-of-factly. "He's not going to be able to hurt you. You have your security gadgets at all times. I've also talked to the school board about the bodyguard rule, and they were willing to bend it for you. You'll be safe."

"Me?" Atobe said blankly. "I'm not talking about me. It's the whole tennis team."

His father looked disappointed in him. "Keigo, who cares about what happens to them?"

The words felt like a slap to the face. Who cares? They were his teammates. He stared at his father, and felt this sick, twisting in his intestines, like he had ate too much middle-class food in one night. He suddenly lost the respect he had held for his father – it drained from his eyes, leaving an empty, angry pit in his stomach.

"You're just as bad as him."

"Excuse me?"

"You're just as bad as Kon Nikolag!" Atobe spat.

His father stood up, raising a hand. "Keigo!"

But Atobe wasn't about to be hit by his father. He already felt like he had taken a blow. He turned on his heel, and stormed out of the study before his father could do a thing. His mind was whirling. Ryoma's sleepy face popped in his mind, and he brushed it away, because it hurt to think about him. But it was his father – his uncaring, selfish, cold father – that broke Atobe the most.

"I hate him," he muttered to himself. He entered the quiet mansion, exiting his father's study.

"Atobe-sama." His butler awaited him. "The bath is waiting."

And Atobe wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and throw a tantrum.

But he just a slid a placid smile on his face and followed his butler out of the room.

I just wanted to reply to reviews from the last chapter. I'm not going to do this each time, but I wanted to reiterate how much I appreciate my readers and reviewers. It warms me that people read and enjoy my story.

KuroTamashii-chan: Haha, yeah, I'm a big fan of protective-Nanjiroh, so even if I don't plan him in the story, he always ends up popping in somehow. Thank you for leaving a review!

SnowyIce: Thank you for your kind words! I hope the Shigeo/Nanjiroh conversation didn't disappoint hehe.

Julieth: I feel like I'm rather predictable with what happened (i.e Kon raping Ryoma), but I hope the twist makes it a little more exciting (or not exciting, because sex trafficking is not an exciting thing). You have parrots? That's incredibly cool. All in all, thank you for your kind words.

FirstWave: This just warms my little heart up, haha. Thank you so much! I adore Atobe and Ryoma's chemistry too. Your compliments about my story and writing style make me blush, hehe. Thank you!