Author's Note: Everyone, I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! I had the curse of writer's block! Make sure to review- if you feed the review whore she will be faster to put out. Hahah. Enjoy~!

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It wasn't raining when Ryoma woke up in the morning. It was a lucky thing for everyone around him, because he probably would've snapped if it had been.

But it was beautiful day. The sunlight streamed through the tennis prodigy's window, illuminating the usually dim room. His bath yesterday had eased much of the tension, and the lack of late night visions about a certain tensai much improved his disposition. In fact, he hadn't felt this good in days.

He dragged a hand through his unruly hair, debating whether or not to attempt attacking it with a comb today.

Surprisingly enough, he opted to forgo combing and skipped straight to basic essentials. (And no, as far as Ryoma was concerned, combing his hair was not a basic essential)

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he padded down the hallway, Karupin nipping gently at his heels.

"Meow."

"Karupin, that tickles…" he mumbled under his breath, stepping into the vacant bathroom. After ten minutes of splashing cold water on his face, Ryoma dubbed himself awake enough to get dressed without ripping a hole in his pants.

He shuffled back to his room, wishing ardently for Tezuka's slow, painful death at the hands of rabid fan girls. Only after they violated him, of course.

Morning practice. Again.

Ryoma knew it was close to Nationals and all, but for Christ's sake. Seven o' clock? It was already six thirty, according to the clock on the wall.

Great. That meant he got to skip breakfast as well. Oh, joy.

Ryoma gave the mangled bed a cursory glance, before deciding that it simply wasn't worth it to be a neat freak today.

Karupin nipped at his heels again as he pulled his pajamas over his head, exposing a pale, lightly muscled chest.

"What is it, Karupin? Ow! Karu, that hurts!"

The dark haired boy scooped up his cat in one fluid motion and glared at the animal, but gently. As much as he hated to admit it, he loved this little cat more than life itself.

"Why are you so grumpy today?"

Karupin gave Ryoma look that was suspiciously human. Like a mother warning her child to stay out of the street.

Ryoma smirked. "Okay, Karu. I'll be careful."

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Shit. I hate you so much sometimes, Tezuka.

Two minutes. Two bloody minutes he was late, and he had to fun fifty laps. Seigaku's captain hadn't even blinked issuing the order either.

He could hear Momo, Kawamura, and Kikimaru panting behind him. The steady beat of their feet against the pavement kept Ryoma's head clear and allowed him to ignore the steady burning in his legs.

Of course, Fuji had been on time. Early, to be precise. Fifteen minutes early. Ryoma cursed the tensai in his head. Did he live to make the rest of them look like vagabonds?

The first year regular hardly noticed that someone had come up beside him until a high pitched voice pierced his eardrums.

Oh, no. Oh god no.

"Ochibi!"

"No." Ryoma panted, hardly missing a beat. He kept his eyes straight ahead, tugging his trademark cap down so that his face was shadowed.

His upbeat senpai clucked his tongue. "Nya, so mean ochibi. It isn't good manners, it isn't."

Ryoma stopped running, heart slamming against his rib cage with every breath. That was forty-eight. It Tezuka had a problem, he could shove it. If he'd felt like running he would've joined the track team.

Momoshiro stopped next to him, purple eyes glinting, sweat soaking the front of his shirt. "You should be nicer to your senpai, Echizen. After all the burgers you've filched from Kikimaru-senpai." The spiky haired boy shook his head, smirk sliding across his face.

Ryoma glared at him. Just great. Now Momo-senpai's in on it too.

"Momo-senpai, you're the one who orders the most."

His elder pretended to be offended, and against his will, a smile tugged at the corner of Ryoma's lips. Leave it to Momo and Kikimaru to annoy the hell out of him and restore his good mood all at once.

Said red haired acrobat tugged at his clothing and jutted out his lower lip, much like a child would. "Ochibi, graduation is in two months. This will be one of the last times we'll get to do stuff like this…"

Momo nodded and caught his junior in a headlock, rubbing the top of the olive colored mane of hair.

"You're so mean, Echizen, so mean. You can't even go to a party for your senpai-tachi!"

"Momo-senpai, that hurts!" The olive haired boy squirmed piteously, but to no avail. He was trapped.

Suddenly, Momo released him, jumping back as if he'd been burned. Ryoma shot his elder an icy glare, but his expression quickly changed to one of horror as he saw why his senpai had released him.

Tezuka stood in front of them, sunlight glinting off his glasses, arms across his chest. Though his face was calm, every single person in the vicinity could feel his anger.

"You three. Have wasted. Twenty two minutes of practice."

Kikimaru flinched visibly, head dropping in shame. Or terror. Or both. Ryoma bit his lip. They'd both been late twice in a row now, and the Seigaku captain looked as if his patience had run out.

"Momoshiro. Back to practice. You will be following Inui's special training menu today. I suggest you prepare to stay late."

The purple-eyed boy looked as if he wanted nothing more than to catch the nearest train far, far away from whatever it was Inui had dubbed "Special."

As if on cue, the data specialist appeared behind his hapless victim, and the second year honestly looked as if he might cry. His desperate pleas of "Inui-senpai, that's not legal!" could be heard even as he was dragged towards the back of the building.

The sight was rather pitiful, actually. But Ryoma was too busy fearing for his own sanity to pay much attention to his friend's plight. Dear God, when he chops me up into tiny pieces and stores my remains in the freezer, please let him eat my right arm instead of my left. That way, if they put me back together, I can still play my best tennis.

Tezuka pushed his glasses up, eyes never leaving the two cowering regulars before him.

"As for you two…"

Ryoma swallowed, and he could hear his senpai whimpering beside him.

"Tezuka, maybe you should go easy on them, ne?"

Ryoma's heart stopped. That voice. Soft and melodious just like a siren…Fuji. Ryoma jumped involuntarily, and his face flushed. Damn it. Why couldn't he control his own body? Whenever Fuji was around…his self control might as well have been thrown out the window.

The honey haired tensai stood just behind Tezuka. As always, he was smiling. His cheeks were graced, ever so slightly, with a tinge of pink. Maybe the genius had actually decided to try today.

But Ryoma still didn't like him.

"Fuji." Tezuka's voice didn't betray a hint of surprise, though his eyebrows were lodged in his bangs. "I thought you were practicing with Kaidoh."

The unspoken question of "What the hell are you doing over here?" hung in the air.

Ryoma didn't look at his captain. He couldn't. As much as he hated it, he couldn't take his eyes off of Fuji if his life depended on it.

"We finished. 6-3."

An inexperienced, unsuspecting person might have mistaken his tone for regretful. As if to say "I'm sorry to interrupt."

Too bad the tell tale smirk on his face gave him away. It was obvious Fuji was enjoying this. Though, Ryoma hadn't the slightest idea why. Fuji and Tezuka were friends…Fuji's best friend, next to Kikimaru.

But it was unmistakable…and then Fuji opened his eyes, and any coherent thought Ryoma had been able to manage flittered away like ashes in the wind.

Those brilliant, brilliant eyes were sparkling like a thousand diamonds. There was a keen shrewdness in them that could see into the soul. Ryoma tried to drag his eyes away, but then Fuji spoke.

So much for that.

"I don't think you should punish Eiji. It's my fault he's late…I kept him up last night." The concerned, "I'm so sweet" smile slipped back into place, but there was a hint of laughter in the tensai's voice. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"I don't see how that's an excuse, Fuji." The voice was cold. Uncharacteristically so. It took Ryoma a few seconds to realize that it wasn't Tezuka who'd spoken at all.

Oishi appeared from behind the fence, sleeves rolled up to expose tan muscles. His mouth was a flat line and the usual boyish joy that made him Oishi was gone. Ryoma could feel Eiji tense behind him and the acrobat's grip on his shoulder tightened.

Then tension was unbearable. The unresolved conflict between the five of them had become palpable…it was suffocating. Ryoma risked a quick glance back. But Eiji didn't even look angry. His dark eyes were trained on the ground, and his mouth twitched downward. If Ryoma hadn't know better, he would've sworn his senpai was trying not to cry.

Then the siren spoke again, but his voice was far from sweet. Ryoma felt a chill infuse every inch of his body.

"Saa…Oishi, I think you of all people should go easy on him." That voice. The voice Ryoma hadn't heard since Fuji played Mizuki. Like chipped block of ice. Fuji was truly furious.

Hard as flint blue eyes met widened olive orbs. The base of the Golden Pair looked as if someone had slapped him. Then he looked away. Tezuka cleared his throat.

"Echizen, Fuji. Go back to practice; you've already wasted enough time. " It wasn't a question. That tone left no room for debate.

"…Tezuka. I need to talk to Oishi."

Kikimaru's whisper was barely audible. The red head didn't raise his eyes.

Oishi didn't even look in his partner's direction. His boyish face was turned towards. Tezuka. But there was something stiff in his movements, something forced, and Ryoma knew that he felt the tension as much as anyone. "No. Tezuka's right. We all need to practice. We only have a few minutes left."

Something in Fuji's face tightened, but he didn't speak. Eiji flinched visibly, and Ryoma felt a surge of pity for his elder. They're combination wasn't the only thing that was off about the Golden Pair. No.. something else was wrong. No matter what happened between them in the past, they had never been like this. They had been cold to each other, yes. But this was worse. This was as if…the other didn't even exist.

"I need to talk to Oishi now, Buchou." Eiji had raised his head. His dark eyes were the same as they had been the other day- the unmistakable challenge and the mix of anger and sadness swirling around, battling for dominance.

Tezuka, possibly for the first time since Ryoma had known him, hesitated. His hazel eyes were uncertain and he opened his mouth as if to speak and then shut it.

Fuji's crystal orbs flickered around the scene, before settling directly on Ryoma. And then time stopped. Breathing was no longer relevant. Neither were the three boys standing around them. Nothing mattered but the way Fuji was looking at him right now.

"Echizen…I'll see you at the party tomorrow."

"…Ah." Ryoma didn't feel his lips move. He barely even noticed the soft affirmation falling from his lips. Hell, he couldn't even blink.

And then Fuji shut his eyes and the smile slipped back onto his face. Time began to move again.

"Saa…Echizen, Tezuka. We should go back to practice, ne? The others will be wondering."

Seigaku's leader nodded silently, and Ryoma couldn't have refused if he'd wanted to. He was vaguely aware of the other Regulars staring at them in the distance. Practice was just about over. And he hadn't even touched a racket.

He didn't even notice that Oishi and Kikimaru hadn't followed them. Or that Fuji hadn't even said their names.

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He wasn't backing down. Anger and resentment pooled inside of the bit of his belly, and his bit back a strong desire to retch. But he wasn't going to stop until Oishi looked at him.

The taller boy coughed, dragging his eyes from his partner's gaze. His voice was hesitant- a pathetic attempt to sound normal.

"What is it, Eiji? We have to go back."

Eiji couldn't take it. He couldn't take this…the weeks on end of silence, the excuses to be anywhere that he wasn't, the eyes that refused to meet his. And what came out of his mouth next wasn't what he'd intended to say. But it was the question he'd so desperately needed to ask.

"Oishi, why'd you let me?!" The cry was bordering on a shout, and the flush on Oishi's cheeks only increased the red head's rage. "Why'd you let me, Oishi?!"

The olive-eyed boy looked away. And that was the last straw.

"Oishi! LOOK AT ME!!!!!!!" The shout was raw and desperate, and Eiji could feel the tears welling up, threatening to spill over.

Oishi's eyes met his. But there was nothing in them. They were dead.

"…It was a mistake, Eiji. If you can't accept that, than this isn't going to work."

Eiji recoiled as if he'd been slapped in the face. …What?

He struggled to find his voice, emptiness rising inside of him. "Mistake?" it was nary more than a whisper.

"We're both at that age. It was curiosity, and now it's been satisfied. Whatever happened that day…whatever you thought you felt…it wasn't real."

"………"

"Eiji…" Oishi's eyes turned pleading and he extended a hand tentatively. "You're my best friend…I want things….to go back to the way they were…"

"You're telling me….that I sucked your dick…because I was curious…" his tone was flat.

Oishi drew back his hand as if he'd been burned. "Eiji!"

"Go away." There was no trace of emotion in the cat boy's voice. Nothing at all. Eiji couldn't feel. He could barely move his lips. It was as if someone had frozen him.

Oishi winced. He knew. He knew that when Eiji went dead, it meant that he had no way of dealing with the emotions inside of him. It meant that there were was nothing to say.

"Do you really think…that I would do that…with someone I didn't love?"

Silence.

Eiji lowered his eyes. He couldn't stand to look at Oishi. He found it bitterly ironic that before, all he'd wanted was to be seen…now he never wanted to look at Oishi again.

Is that how Oishi felt that day? When I kissed him….after he guided my face lower, moaning my name….is this how he felt? Is this why, the entire time, he never once opened his eyes? Did I disgust him this much?

It was too much. All of it. He saw everything…it flashed before his eyes like a screenplay. The countless nights spent weeping into a pillow, agonizing over how to tell Oishi his feelings…finally deciding it would be better to show him. Whispering in Oishi's ear as he kissed the tan flesh…"I love you.." over and over again…waiting patiently for a response. Himself, curling up into a ball and crying for hours after Oishi ran out without saying a word. Crying until Fuji found him and all but carried him home, without asking a single question.

And then the movie stopped. And Eiji saw Oishi standing before him, desperate. Vulnerable. And it made him sick.

"GO AWAY!"

He barely noticed the tears sliding down his cheeks.

Stupid! How could I- why did I ever-?!

Oishi swallowed, extending a hand. "Eiji…you're my friend…"

Part of him, when he heard those words, wanted to laugh. But the part that wanted to hurt Oishi- to break him into a thousand pieces was stronger.

"You…disgust me. Get out of my sight." Pure, unadulterated hatred.

Oishi bit his lip, extending his hand further, eyes begging. "Eiji…please…can't we just…"

And then Eiji lost it. He didn't think. And when his fist collided with the side of his double's partner's face, it felt as if someone else had done it.

Even when Oishi fell to the ground, hand pressed to his cheek, eyes filled with tears of shock and pain, Eiji still didn't realize it.

None of it mattered. And the only thing to do was run- run far, far away from the boy who'd once been the reason for his existence.

He didn't hear Oishi call his name.

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed this. I will try to be faster with the next chapter. There is still so much that needs to be said…