Ryoma didn't expect to forget about Kon, but summer was always a busy time. Between tennis practice and burgers with his senpai, he barely had time to think about Kon. It was only at night when the nightmares came back – twisting and curling in his brain – that he remembered. But his father had given him Prazosin pills to ease them, and now even that constant reminder was fading away.

The last day of school came quicker than expected, and Ryoma relished the freedom. He didn't mind school, but homework was a waste of time, especially when he was planning to head to the pro circuit anyway.

"Freedom!" Momo cried, slinging an arm around Ryoma. "Ahh, I don't think I've felt the sun on my face in so long! Those stupid exams are finally over! I studied day and night for those darned things."

Ryoma shrugged off his arm. "Don't be dramatic, Momo-senpai. Knowing you, you probably spent half the time playing video games in your room."

"Stop being so rude," Momo scolded, swatting his head lightly.

Ryoma swatted his hand back. "Don't be so stupid then."

Momo lagged behind him, whining, "You really don't treat me like a senpai, you know that?"

"Momo-senpai doesn't act like a senpai."

More whining persisted.

Ryoma enjoyed Momo's company. Even though Momo wasn't an exceptional tennis player, he ruffled Ryoma's hair and treated him to burgers and had become Ryoma's first friend. In America, friends had been foreign to Ryoma. After what had happened to him, he had withdrawn into himself, not trusting anyone.

People in America weren't tolerant enough to push past that barrier. But Momo had been. So had the other regulars.

Ryoma appreciated that more than he would ever say.

Momo yawned. "Wanna get tacos? This new taco shop opened up."

"Sounds good. You treating?"

Momo grumbled, "When don't I?"

They bickered their way past the summer streets. The sun was high in a bright blue sky, and kids free from school were taking advantage of the first day of summer break. In less than ten minutes, the two of them arrived at the new taco shop, located between a Chinese cuisine and a thrift store.

The taco shop had nice décor with black-and-white tiled floors and coral walls. The tables and chairs were styled like a preppy bar, and the man at the counter, along with his stained apron, wore a welcoming smile. Momo came back from the counter carrying a tray overloaded with wrapped tacos and two soft drinks. He had a huge grin on his face.

"Ooh! It smells so good!" Momo did not hesitate to dive right in. Through a mouthful, he said, "It tastes so good too!"

Ryoma rolled his eyes, and unwrapped his own taco. "You're acting like you've never had a taco before."

"When you're hungry, everything feels like you haven't had it before."

"You're always hungry."

Momo chuckled, and continued to stuff his face.

Ryoma ate his own taco, closing his eyes. The sun from the window felt warm on his face. He could hear Momo babbling about how hard his math exam was from across the table, and his tennis bag leaned against his thigh, reminding him of his exhilarating game with Fuji earlier in the day. The stress of school was gone, leaving a summer full of tennis ahead of him.

Right now, in this moment, Ryoma felt good.

It was rare feeling and he cherished it.

"There was this weird question about slope but they didn't give us the right angle! So of course I asked my sensei about it but she wouldn't give any- Oi! Listen to your senpai when he's speaking!"

Ryoma blinked. "I was listening."

"Liar."

"You were talking about how you failed your math exam," Ryoma said cheekily.

"I didn't fail." Momo scoffed.

"Sure, Momo-senpai."

"I didn't," Momo insisted.

Ryoma was about to reply, but Momo cut in. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Confusion swept over his face. "What?"

"You're back to yourself." Momo smiled. "You were really worrying us for the past few weeks."

Ryoma frowned. They had noticed his exhaustion? "I was fine."

Momo shrugged. "You always seemed tired and moody, and never wanted to hang out. We were concerned."

"I – " Ryoma's throat burned, because he wasn't used to people aside from his family caring for him. He didn't think any of his senpai-tachi had noticed. But because Momo was right and he was feeling like himself again, he just smirked. "Momo-senpai is so soft."

"Hey! I was having a heart-to-heart."

"Only girls do that."

"Take that back, Echizen." Momo's eyes narrowed. "Or I'll take your taco."

Ryoma held his taco protectively. "You wouldn't."

"I would-"

The door chimed signalling another customer. Ryoma glanced up, and the taco suddenly felt cold in his mouth.

Kon Nikolaj strode in, heading straight for the counter. He was wearing a gold vest, and his dark hair curled around his ears. Ryoma stared at the back of his head, and felt that familiar empty coldness fill his body whole again. His hand trembled, and his eyes, wide and filled with fear, stared at the man across the shop.

Of course, even if Momo was dense, he wasn't clueless. "Oi, Echizen, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Ryoma continued to stare at Kon, his heart vibrating against his ribcage. Any warmth from the window was drowned by the memories that still pierced his brain, grinding permanently into his fragile state. Ryoma couldn't eat anymore. The taco he had finished churned in his stomach, threatening to be heaved out.

"I have to go." Ryoma stood up quickly. His eyes were already blurring with tears. He had to leave before Kon noticed him. He didn't want Kon looking at him. He hadn't wanted Kon looking at him three years ago, and that hadn't changed.

"What-Echizen-"

"You can have my taco." Ryoma slung his tennis bag over his shoulder. He hurried in the opposite direction, but a hand clamped on his wrist.

Ryoma flinched, and panicked. But it was only Momo, violet eyes drowning in concern. "Hey, hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Ryoma's eyes darted to Kon. The man was still ordering, and hadn't noticed them. "Let me go. I have to go."

Momo followed his line of vision. His face darkened. "Is that guy bothering you?"

"No – Momo-senpai – just leave it-"

"I'll give him a piece of my mind if he is."

"Momo-senpai-"

Ryoma watched in horror as Momo marched up to Kon Nikolaj. Ryoma shrunk against the seat, trying to keep his breathing steady. The first year after Kon had enslaved him, he had had random panic attacks. His dad had always told him to focus on his breathing. Ryoma closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Then he took another breath, letting the air rush into his lungs. His hands were warm with sweat, and his heart rung in his ears – but he breathed.

His heart beat had nearly slowed to normal when he heard the sound of an impending crack. Ryoma's eyes flew open.

Kon Nikolaj grasped the counter, holding a bloody nose.

Momo was glaring at him. "I don't know what you did, but you stay away from Ryoma."

The friendly man by the counter no longer looked friendly. "Hey! This a new business! We don't need a bad reputation."

Momo slapped an extra few yen on the man's counter, shutting him up. His eyes were still trained on Kon. "You hear me? You leave him alone."

Blood smeared Kon's ugly mouth. His eyes were slits. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Ryoma squeezed his eyes shut. Momo-senpai, please don't point to me, please don't point to me-

"If you ever hurt him – " Momo pointed to Ryoma. "You're as good as dead."

Ryoma could barely manage to stay rooted on the spot. Every instinct in his body was telling him to flee. Kon's eyes met his eyes, and even with a bloody nose, a smirk rose to his lips, a creepy leer Ryoma was all too familiar with. He purposefully rode his gaze all over Ryoma's body, knowing it would make Ryoma squirm.

It worked. Ryoma shuddered and looked away.

But then Kon looked to Momo. His smile was smug and powerful. "I'll leave. You can have my order, free of charge. Have a nice day."

Momo looked confused. "Huh?"

Kon brushed past him, heading for the door. But before he left, he turned around and looked at Ryoma. "You enjoy yourself too, yeah?"

Ryoma's toes curled into his shoes. His eyes averted to the floor, and the only thing keeping him from melting down was the knowledge that he was in a public place. Then Kon was gone, leaving the room hot and stuffy. Ryoma's eyes were wet when Momo approached him, and he rubbed at them with the sleeve of his shirt.

Momo chewed on his lower lip. "Yeah, that was weird."

"I told you not to!"

"What?" Momo looked taken aback.

"I said to leave it. Why didn't you just leave it?"

"Because you were scared of him?" Momo said. "You're never scared of people. I knew he must have been a complete asshole."

"I hate you," Ryoma said darkly.

"Wait- Echizen – "

Without waiting for a reply, Ryoma stormed out of the taco shop. He saw Kon's limousine just turning the corner of the street. Holding back tears, he went the other way, trying but failing to control his emotions. He hated this. He hated everything that made his perfect composure crumble. He hated outbursts and getting visibly angry and – he hated showing his vulnerable side, even to people he trusted like Momo.

He was supposed to be cool, apathetic Echizen.

Not angry, emotional, moody Echizen.

Ryoma kicked a stone, watching it skid across the sidewalk.

He didn't even know what to feel anymore. Every time he felt happy, Kon would snatch that happiness away.

Ryoma walked down the sidewalk for almost a half an hour, trying to calm his racing heart and confused emotions. The warm summer air and rolling green grass made it easier to stop worrying, and by the time he reached a set of tennis courts, he was feeling okay again. Scared and miserable, but okay.

He sat down on one of the burning benches, watching random tennis players play a match in front of him. They were pretty good, and Ryoma relaxed and observed the game.

Even if he wasn't playing, tennis never failed to soothe him.

But all good things must come to an end. That was what Ryoma thought when he heard a certain Monkey King's voice.

"Well, if isn't the brat." Atobe Keigo slid into the bench next to him.

Ryoma`s hands clenched in his lap. "If you say Kon's name, I'm going to punch you."

Atobe winced. "I'm not here for that."

Ryoma glared at him. Atobe pretended to be absorbed by his racquet strings.

When Ryoma couldn't stand the silence anymore, he said: "Then what are you doing?"

"If you must know, I came to play tennis." Atobe sniffed. "You're not so special, you know."

"Then play tennis," Ryoma pressed.

Atobe shrugged. "The courts are occupied."

Ryoma snorted. "And that's going to stop the great ore-sama?" he mocked.

"You're a brat. Someone needs to teach you manners."

"You're a Monkey. I don't know how you got left behind when everyone else evolved." Ryoma was pleased with his insult, and was even more pleased when he saw Atobe's brow twitch.

But there was also something weird about the way Atobe was acting with him. He wouldn't make eye contact, looking everywhere but directly at Ryoma. But whenever Ryoma looked away, he could feel Atobe studying him, trying to figure something out.

"What is it?" he asked.

Atobe looked away again. "Nothing," he said quietly to himself. "You just don't seem…"

Ryoma stared at him.

"Nothing," Atobe repeated.

Silence spread over them. Ryoma resumed watching the tennis match, but he couldn't focus. Not when he could feel Atobe's eyes bleeding into his back, raking over his body. It made him uncomfortable. He knew Atobe wasn't looking at him the way Kon did, but he still felt weird. Especially because Atobe never acted like this.

"Is there something wrong?" Ryoma finally said. He had meant to sound annoyed, but his voice came out soft instead.

Atobe met his eyes this time. "Ore-sama… just thinks you're quite a good tennis player."

Ryoma arched a brow. When Atobe seemed sincere, he responded, "That's because you're mada mada dane."

Atobe didn't reply to the insult, and Ryoma grew increasingly worried. He didn't know why Atobe was acting weird with him. Huffing to himself, he turned slightly, trying to focus on the tennis match. One side was losing sorely now, making the game a lot more boring to watch. The sun was still bright in the sky, warming his cheeks and neck. A long ten minutes of silence passed. Atobe sat still beside him, a direct contrast to Momo and Kikumaru's usual fidgeting.

Ryoma stood up abruptly. This was a waste of time.

"Where are you going?" Atobe asked.

"Home."

"Oh." Atobe's eyes grew panicked, as if he needed an excuse to make Ryoma stay. "Ah- wait! Ore-sama must announce something."

Ryoma stopped, giving him a look. "Then announce it."

Atobe narrowed his eyes at him. "I heard you're coming to the summer training camp with us."

"Che. How'd you know?"

"My father mentioned it to me." Ryoma noticed Atobe's eyes darken at the word father. He didn't comment.

"Hmm. I'm only coming to beat a certain Monkey's ass."

"You take that back!"

"Make me." Ryoma smirked.

Atobe opened his mouth to retort, but then shut it. He stared at Ryoma for a long moment, and Ryoma thought he saw pity. Then he averted his gaze, unable to look at him. "Well, head off now," he said. He paused, unsurely. "Would you like ore-sama to walk you home?"

Ryoma blinked. He must have heard wrong. "What?"

"Ore-sama can walk you home."

What the hell was this all about? Ryoma didn't know. All he knew was that they were tennis rivals with an almost fiery dislike for each other. And Atobe Keigo, who claimed to be the best of the best, never, ever offered to walk someone home. Especially not Ryoma. There was something else going on.

"What's going on?" Ryoma asked suspiciously.

Atobe wouldn't meet his eyes. "Nothing is going on. You should be grateful ore-sama is offering."

"Don't lie to me." Ryoma snickered. "You surprisingly suck at lying."

Atobe glared. "Ore-sama does not suck at anything." His expression changed immediately. "Or maybe you're right."

What the fuck?

"Stop doing that," Ryoma demanded.

"Doing what?" Atobe twitched.

"You keep changing your mind. Are you trying to be nice or something?"

Atobe worried his lip between his teeth. "It's nothing of that sort."

"You were doing it before too. You kept staring at me but you would look away when I looked back at you."

Atobe flushed in what Ryoma guessed was embarrassment. "An Atobe doesn't do anything of that kind. It would be a humiliation."

"I saw you," Ryoma pressed out. He knew he was poking at Atobe's temper. But he didn't care.

"Maybe you weren't paying proper attention," Atobe snapped.

"I have the best vision in Seigaku aside from Kikumaru-senpai," Ryoma retorted.

"Yeah? What happened to that best vision when you let Kon kidnap you?"

Ryoma froze. His face drained of color. "What did you say?"

Atobe looked guilty. "Ore-sama apologizes. That was insensitive."

Ryoma's heart filled his ears once more. "How do you know?" He could feel his mouth moving, but he couldn't hear his own words. They felt distant and faraway. Nobody was supposed to know. This was supposed to be his fresh start. Atobe couldn't know. Atobe wasn't allowed to know. How the hell did he know?

"You don't know – you don't know anything."

Atobe's blue eyes were sad. "I'm aware of what happened."

"You don't know," Ryoma repeated. He shook his head in denial. "You're not allowed to."

Ryoma had never drowned before, but he imagined this was what it felt like – this trembling fear that squeezed his lungs and sent him sinking into a place he wished he didn't have to go. He shook his head again, trying to clear the heavy weight in his mind. The afternoon with Kon at the taco shop came back to him, and his stomach tightened like a balloon.

Atobe couldn't know. If he knew, Ryoma didn't want him looking at him. He didn't want Atobe to look at him.

He turned to run, but Atobe grabbed his wrist. The action sent fear in his fragile state of mind. He flinched, and pushed Atobe way.

"Wait-Echizen-"

"Fuck you. Fuck you." Ryoma quivered.

"I can explain."

"You just had to find out, didn't you?" Ryoma's voice was dark and mean. "You couldn't leave it alone until you knew."

"My father told me," Atobe said. "It wasn't like that."

"Really? What was it like?" Ryoma hated Atobe. But he hated himself even more, in a deep, dark way he never let surface.

Atobe's eyes grew frustrated. "At least listen to me."

"Listen to you?" Ryoma wanted to hurt Atobe. He wanted to hurt Atobe because Atobe knew. "I'm not going to listen to you because you don't have thoughts of your own. I bet you just listen to what your father says like a goddamned puppet."

Atobe's eyes went dark and cruel. "Don't get mad at me because you had sex with random strangers. It wasn't my fault, was it?"

Ryoma's heart stopped.

Atobe's expression changed to guilt.

But it was too late.

"Echizen-"

Ryoma brought his fist back and punched him.

Hard.