Author's Note: I have to thank all of you for reading this long. It really means a lot to me and I appreciate the support. I am very sorry it has taken so long, I know I promised! I have so many ideas swirling around in my head. My heart is heavy with troubles and I'm trying my hardest to keep them from spilling over into the story. Please enjoy this chapter and I hope it was worth the wait. I will try to be quicker, I swear! Only three more! Thank you.
Chapter Eleven: Reckoning
And all three of the wise men say, "I can only fix you if you stay."-Original Quote
Ryoma was a bad liar. He always had been. Something in his face gave him away, whether it was the slight twitch of his upper lip or the gleam in his eyes. It had never really been relevant, however, because Ryoma rarely felt the need to lie. It contradicted the natural bluntness he so prized.
But right now, with his parents glaring at him and his cousin hovering nervously in the corner, Ryoma wished he knew how to lie as smoothly as the arrogant bastard who'd gotten him into this mess in the first place.
Nanjiroh narrowed his eyes and raked a hand through his scruff of a beard, impatience evident in his bearing.
"Where the hell have you been boy?" he mumbled, and it was then that Ryoma knew why he was so grumpy. It was likely that he'd stayed awake waiting. The young tennis prodigy felt a slight twinge of guilt.
"I was with the team. It ran a little late because we got lost. I'm sorry, father." He turned to his mother, who looked more relieved than angry. "I'm sorry, mother. I should have called but I thought you'd be asleep."
Rinko sighed. "Always call, Ryoma. You had me worried sick. You didn't leave a number to call and I thought you might've gotten hurt."
Nanjiroh snorted. "Don't be so easy on the brat. He's lying as sure as the sky is blue."
Ryoma raised an eyebrow, trying to refrain from smirking. "It's night time, old man. The sky is black."
The "old man" let out an affronted growl, but Rinko cut him off.
"It isn't like Ryoma to stay out late. If he says he got lost, I believe him. Now it's late. We should all be getting to bed. Ryoma, you're off the hook this time. But don't do this again. I don't think my heart can take it."
Ryoma nodded, ignoring the death glare his father was giving him. It was clear Nanjiroh didn't believe his story one bit. Not wanting to press his luck, the first year darted up the stairs before his mother could change her mind.
Safe in the confines of his bedroom, Ryoma was finally able to breath. The truth of what had just happened, where he had really been, was finally able to sink it. He leaned against the door, taking breath after breath, trying to steady his racing heart.
It was all coming back to him now. The thrill. The electricity. The pure, unadulterated carnal need that infused every molecule in his body. He raised a suddenly trembling hand to his lips. He brushed his fingers over his swollen bottom lip, where Fuji had bitten him. A dark flush infused his face and he shook his head, as if to clear it of fog.
He kissed me. Fuji Syusuke…kissed me.
Ryoma could remember it all too vividly. Fuji's delicate fingers brushing across his bare skin…goose bumps broke out along his arms and back, and Ryoma couldn't help but let out a low gasp. His skin ached, yearned for the tensai's touch, and he couldn't control it. His body was reacting in ways that delighted and terrified him all at once.
A soft meow broke him out of his fantasy and Ryoma's hands sprang to his sides. Karupin looked up at him with her soft blue eyes. Her tail was standing straight up and she took a step closer, whispers twitching. Her message was clear.
Ryoma smiled wryly. "I'm sorry I'm late. Did you wait up for me?"
The cat remained silent, nipping gently at his toes. Ryoma's mouth stretched into a grin.
"Yes, Karupin, I was good. I didn't do anything too scandalous."
The creature looked up at him then with wide eyes, as if to say, "What do you mean by too scandalous?"
Ryoma scooped up his small friend and held her close, pressing his face into her fur. A forgotten joy welled inside of him, and for that one moment, there was no confusion. For that one moment, as fleeting as it may be.
"Let's go to sleep, Karu. Tomorrow will come soon enough…"
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
When Eiji woke, he was alone. The dark, unfamiliar shapes of Fuji's guest room loomed around him, and he could barely make out a sliver of moonlight through the curtains. A slow, steady throbbing pulsated through his temples, and he let out a low groan. Fragmented memories of previous events flooded back to him, and the resulting nausea sent him stumbling to the bathroom.
The hallway was completely dark, and he bumped into several things along the way. He flicked the bathroom light on for an instant and flicked it off again almost as quickly. Groaning softly, Eiji crawled on all fours to the side of the bathtub, resting his head against the cool porcelain.
I'm such an idiot.
A soft clucking sound from behind him seemed to confirm his silent sentiment.
"Eiji. You really shouldn't drink like that. You know you can't handle your liquor."
A gentle hiss slipped through the red head's teeth. "Oh, fuck you, Fuji. This is all your fault anyway."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Eiji realized that he'd made a mistake. How could he have missed it? Fuji's aura was…off. The acrobat turned himself so that he was facing his friend, supporting his weight against the tub.
"Fuji, I didn't mean that-,"
"No." The tensai's liquid blue eyes were oddly blank. Not cold, just…empty. "You're right. All of this blood is on my hands. I understand if you can't bring yourself to forgive me."
Eiji blinked once. "What…what's come over you? I was just kidding-wait a minute. Why the hell are you dripping?"
The honey haired boy raised a delicate eyebrow and surveyed himself with a cursory glance. "Hm." He mumbled. "So I am."
"What happened, Fuji?" Eiji forced himself to a standing position, ignoring the instant vertigo.
The shorter boy shut his eyes and sighed. "To be honest with you, Eiji, I have not the slightest clue." Fuji extended a pale, damp hand, tell tale smirk absent from his face.
"Come on, Eiji. I'll explain in the morning."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
And even though I cry like crazy
Even though it hurts so bad
I'm thankful for the time God gave me…
Even if it was never real at all.
Momoshiro was rarely serious. To be honest, he'd never seen the need for it. Life was too short. Laughter was the best medicine, blah blah all that jazz.
But mostly, Momoshiro just hated to see people cry. It wasn't just because he was a caring soul, either. The truth was, Momoshiro was a terrible crybaby once he got started. So it was best not to get started. Wallowing in self pity wasn't something that the fiery dunk smash specialist was suited for.
And so now, at three in the morning on a Sunday, just two days after he'd willingly given up the love of his life, Momoshiro was sitting on his couch and watching an R rated movie. A funny one, involving lots of nudity and drunken escapades. And the purple eyed boy was laughing his ass off, stuffing his face full of as many cheese curls as he could manage without choking to death. Three empty soda cans littered the living room floor. His parents slept like him- dead until morning. So he was free to be as racy as he wanted, shouting cat calls at every pair of breasts that graced the screen.
It was heaven. Perfect. This is what Momoshiro did, what he'd always done, and what he'd always do. Nothing had changed, nothing waited for him on Monday morning. He was not faced with a broken team, a broken dream, and a breaking, disillusioned heart. Because things like that were far too serious.
And Momo just didn't do serious.
Crying wasn't an option. And no one had to tell Momo that if he started crying now, if he even for one second pictured Ryoma's easy smirk and strangely gentle golden eyes in his head, then he'd never be able to stop.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Ryuuzaki generally minded her own business and let the Seigaku tennis team handle itself. Her job was to drive the prodigies to matches, offer moral support, and keep the hot headed ones from pounding the opposing teams face's into the asphalt.
And to keep her psychotic granddaughter from kidnapping Ryoma and locking him a closet.
The team, she'd come to realize, didn't really need much else from her. She'd gotten very lucky this year. Tezuka was a firm leader and the team had a lot of respect for him. Ryoma had breathed new life into the team, lit a fire under their asses so to speak, and Momoshiro and Kaidoh helped carry that intensity. Inui was smart enough to manage the bedlam that was sure to ensue from time to time, and Taka's gentle nature soothed cuts before they had a chance to fester into wounds. Eiji's humor and simple, naïve wisdom kept a smile on everyone's face and Fuji, though he didn't say much, managed to pull of a curious sort of ambiguity that balanced out everyone's individual personality.
Yes, she thought, as she cast her gaze around her office, taking in her regulars faces, she'd been very lucky. None of them were looking at her. They were all looking in different directions- the ceiling, the floor, out the window- anywhere but at each other.
That, more than anything, brought a deep sadness to her heart.
"You all," she began, "Have been acting very strangely lately. Several of you attend practice rarely, if at all, and the doubles pairings have been all but completely obliterated. Nationals are in two weeks and we have worked incredibly hard to get here. I've heard from your teachers that all of you, with the exception of Fuji and Inui, have let your grades slip, if only by a minute fraction. Half of you can't even bear to look at the other half without glaring and or flinching. The disdain between you is palpable."
"Where's Momoshiro?" she asked, fearing the worst.
"Sick." Flat lined Ryoma. "He didn't come to school today. He called this morning."
She paused.
"Will someone please tell me…what the hell is going on here?"
As expected, they all flinched. The old woman narrowed her eyes. "That was not a rhetorical question."
The team leader stepped forward and did his best to meet her gaze, but after a moment he averted his eyes. "I assure you, sensei, that there is nothing to worry about. We were experiencing some personal difficulties but-,"
"But nothing," snapped Eiji from the far left corner. Fuji, who stood on his right, shot his teammate a warning glance. Ryoma stood between the two, but his gaze was fixed far, far, away. "Don't lie to her, Tezuka."
Ryuuzaki frowned. It was rare to hear Eiji sound so cross.
"Tezuka isn't denying we have problems." Countered Oishi from the far right corner. "He is simply assuring sensei that we can work through them like mature human beings and not rip each other's heads off like a pack of wild boars."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Oishi." The red head sneered, "I wasn't aware that you'd stopped sniping. When did this happen?"
"Stop it, Eiji." Tezuka turned to face the acrobat, fluorescent lighting glinting off his glasses. "Your immaturity is not welcome here."
"Neither is yours, Tezuka." Fuji's voice was nary more than a whisper, but all eyes turned to him immediately.
The coach could only look on in stunned horror.
"What did you say to me, Syusuke?" hissed Tezuka, closing the distance between them in an instant. Ryoma tensed immediately, golden eyes snapping to the confrontation directly next to him. His small hands curled into tight fists and he looked ready to intervene if necessary.
"Stop it!" Ryuuzaki finally found her voice and it was laced with anger and desperation. "Stop it, both of you!"
Fuji raised his hands in surrender, eyes crinkled into the usual half moons. But there was no smile on his face. Something about that seemed…so horribly wrong.
"You heard her, Tezuka. Now is not the time for childish grudges."
"Grudges? That's just like you. So intoxicated by your own ego that you think everyone is jealous of you."
Fuji's crystal orbs opened. They were filled with a deep sadness.
"Tezuka, I don't want to fight you," he whispered. "Let this go. For the sake of our team. You can despise me, you have every right to hate me, but please…stop this. Don't further this useless destruction."
The taller boy let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, so now you want to be the bigger man? It's a bit late for that, don't you think? You've gotten what you wanted."
A stir of moment to her right caught Ryuuzaki's attention. It was the door opening and closing, the echo of the dull thud resounding in her ears. It took her only a moment to register the fact that Kawamura was no longer in the room.
"Stop it!" she screamed, full fury ignited. "Kunimitsu, get away from him! Now!"
The sheer force of her shout seemed to snap the team captain out of a trance. He sprang back as if someone had burned him. Ryoma's fists uncurled and he pulled down his cap, further shielding his eyes.
"I can not believe…" The coach's voice quivered with indignation. "The shameless display of immaturity I just witnessed. Tezuka, you of all people! And you, Fuji…that's it. That's it! It's obvious my words mean nothing to you! But you listen to me, you little brats! Nationals are in two weeks and we…all of us….have worked our asses off all damn year! And if you think that I'm going to let a few lovers' quarrels ruin all of that, you've got another damn thing coming!"
Snatching her keys from the desk, the tennis expert crossed to the door and threw it open. Then she turned to face her team, all of whom were looking at her as if she'd grown a second head.
"You will stay in this room until I say you can leave. I will call all of your parents, so don't even try to use that. You can stay here all night if it comes to that. This team, the one I see before me now, is not going to Nationals. So I suggest you pull your heads out of your asses. Goodnight."
And with that, she slammed the door shut.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"This is not going to end well," muttered Ryoma, running a hand through his hair. "Tezuka won't listen to anything we have to say, and as long as he's intent on dividing us, we will remain divided. There's no point in this." They'd been sitting in silence for nearly half an hour now. Eiji had fallen into a sort of restless sleep; head nestled under Fuji's shoulder. It surprised and frightened Ryoma how jealous that simple action made him.
Fuji nodded, motioning for Ryoma to come closer. The younger boy scooted over until their hips were touching. The tensai was staring out into the distance, obviously in deep thought.
"I'm sorry, Ryoma," he whispered. "This is all my fault. I've ruined your prospects."
Ryoma raised an eyebrow. "If you think that a measly team squabble is going to ruin my prospects, you obviously don't know me very well."
Fuji turned to look at him, eyes fluttering open. They were glittering with mild curiosity.
"You seem…much improved from the other day. Calmer…more together. Almost as if you've come to terms with it all."
Ryoma shrugged, breathing in and out as slowly as possible. "It isn't easy. But I had to. In the end, I had two options. Pull it together or fall apart. What happened on Friday…" a light blush rose to his cheeks, "It confused me. But in a good way. It solidified what I truly wanted. Now that I know that, I feel…better."
The soft pressure of a hand on his knee nearly sent the younger boy reeling.
"Um…I…ah…Fuji…" he squeaked, blush darkening.
Deep, liquid blue eyes meeting his stopped his protest. His heart slammed against his ribcage, and the slow breathing he'd worked so carefully to maintain ceased to matter.
Fuji's voice was nary more than a whisper. "You know what you want? You're sure?"
Ryoma nodded shakily, the older boy's gaze searing into his flesh. A thin sheen of sweat began to form on his palms.
"Alright then."
And then Fuji's lips were pressed against his. The kiss was so gentle that it could have been nothing more than a whisper of wind. A strange, foreign sweetness spilled over and filled Ryoma, replacing his blood with air and lemon drops, strength and vulnerability, peace and light.
It nearly brought tears to his eyes.
And then, all of a sudden, it was gone. Too suddenly. Ryoma tried to focus his eyes, tried to clear away the blinding white that had replaced his vision.
He heard a shout that seemed to come from miles away, and then another. The peace he'd attained shattered within seconds of its coming.
"You son of a bitch!"
"Stop it!"
"Let go of him!"
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"STOP IT!"
The world came rushing at him. Inui was holding Eiji by the shoulders, yanking him backwards. The red head had a look of death on his face and his mouth was open in a grotesque snarl. There was shouting, too much shouting, and Ryoma couldn't make out the indistinct sounds.
Oishi was standing stock still, olive eyes staring in shocked horror. Kaidoh looked as if he were close to being sick all over the floor.
Fuji.
Ryoma scrambled to his feet in an instant, whirling around, desperate to find the being who occupied every thought, every moment of his very existence.
The tensai's head was lolled back, honey brown hair askew. His bangs had fallen back, fully exposing his porcelain forehead. His eyes were closed.
Tezuka held him up by the collar, pressed against the sole window. Ryoma heard more than saw the sickening sound of flesh grating against flesh. Fuji's head snapped to the side like a limp rag doll.
No. No, no, no!
"Tezuka! No! Stop it!" he screamed, too horrified to be shocked by the savage desperation in his voice.
The captain ignored him, or rather, didn't hear him at all. The fist rose again.
His feet moved then, with all the speed years of tennis had afforded him. There was no time to think. His arms wrapped around Tezuka's waist and he stayed there, breath caught in his throat.
"Please…" he whispered. "Buchou, please don't hurt him. Please don't hurt him…"
"Let go of me, Ryoma." Tezuka sounded far away, as if he could barely hear the boy latched onto him. "Get out of the way."
"No." he ground out, voice shaking. His legs wavered but he held on, struggling to ignore the surprising warmth radiating from his team leader's skin. The kind of warmth that made him want to let go and stand by. The kind of warmth that reminded him how much Tezuka had meant to him…the way it could have been had he never given into his feelings. The burning guilt from the other night returned full force.
But he didn't let go. Something inside of him wouldn't let him.
"Hit me instead. I don't care what you do; I know how much you hate me. And I know how much you must be hurting…dear God, I know…I know what it feels like. The ripping sensation that feels like it will tear you to pieces if you don't hurt someone, if you don't let the world know exactly what it feels like. I can't ask you to stop feeling that away. All I ask is that you hurt me instead. Let Fuji go…Tezuka…please…" he finished weakly, burying his head under his leader's shoulder. "Kunimistu…please…"
There was a soft thud from in front of him. Ryoma withdrew his head just in time to see Fuji slump the ground, motionless. Tezuka stepped back sharply, throwing off Ryoma's balance. He stumbled, feet colliding with one another as gravity bore him backwards. Strong arms caught him from behind and pressed him against a slender chest.
A familiar cotton candy flavored scent told him it was Kikimaru.
The acrobat's grip on him hardened. "Don't you dare, Tezuka." He growled, a strange, mad sort of fury deepening his voice. "I will see you dead."
The captain wasn't looking at the boy threatening him. His gaze was locked on Ryoma, hazel eyes filled with a startling sadness.
It ran deep, so very deep, until anguish was the only thing that could come close to describing it anymore.
"Ryoma…" he whispered with such softness that Ryoma felt his heart would break in his chest. "Do you really hate me so much? Am I really not enough? Has all of it…has all of it never been enough?"
"Buchou…no…" he choked, fighting back the sudden tears that sprung up inside of him. "I don't hate you. It doesn't have to be this way. Just because we can't…just because I don't…"
Tezuka's face contorted then, a twisted mask of pain and revelation turning his handsome face into something nearly unrecognizable.
"He told you?"
Ice water came crashing down on Ryoma, igniting his skin with cold flame.
"Tezuka…it doesn't mean that we can't…that I don't…"
The green haired boy placed his hands to his head and turned away, shoulders slumped in defeat. The position seemed so unnatural…it frightened Ryoma horribly.
It can't be. It can't end like this. After all of it, all of the shit…he can't just walk away! I don't…I don't want to lose him! Not like this!
"Buchou! Please don't…don't…"
"Don't what, Ryoma?" the captain whispered, still facing the opposite direction. "What do you want from me? You want me to ignore what's going on? You want me to pretend like it's not happening?" the whisper pulsated with intensity. "You want me to be the strong, stoic leader everyone has come to respect? Bury my feelings deep inside so that they can eat their way out and destroy me? You want me to make things go back to normal? Well, I can't. It's over."
"Enough of this! Enough already!"
Ryoma whirled his head around just as Eiji let go of him and turned to face the source of the outburst.
Kaidoh was kneeling beneath the window still, cradling Fuji's still from. Eiji let out a low hiss.
"Get away from him."
"No! I can't stand to see this go on any longer!" the viper's growl lacked all of its usual venom. "I won't let you do this! All of you stop being so fucking selfish!"
Inui cleared his throat. "I agree with Kaidoh. All of us have worked so hard to make this team work. And I can't just sit by and watch the four of you throw it away. Your personal problems are just that-personal. This team is falling apart. Our leader is acting out of a malicious desire for retribution, and by doing so, is creating an unnecessary divide between us all. Our strongest doubles team has let childish vendettas ruin a life long friendship. It doesn't make sense. None of it makes a bit of sense."
Ryoma felt the truth of Inui's words weigh on him. The pure stupidity of the situation hit him in the face like a boulder.
"Inui is right. Look at us…look at what we've become."
Oishi's olive eyes welled with tears. "Oh my god. I can't believe this. I can't believe any of this."
Emotions flickered across Eiji's face like a moving screen. Anger, denial, sadness, realization. The red head sunk to sitting position, burying his head between his knees. "This is my fault. My stupid fight with Oishi started this."
"It's all of our faults. We should never have taken sides." Kaidoh conceded, releasing Fuji and laying him down gently. "Fuji is alright. Just knocked out."
"I am sorry." Mumbled Tezuka, voice breaking. He turned around, glasses in hand. He raised his head and Ryoma's heart splintered and broke, before mending in one miraculous instant.
Tears streamed down his face, two pools of crystalline heartbreak. "I am so sorry for what I have done."
Eiji raised his head and met Tezuka's gaze. His face was hard and blank as a stone. Then it broke, it broke and tears were streaming down his face as well.
"Mo, buchou. Don't go crying now. You're gonna make us all look like a bunch of girls."
Kaidoh turned his face away, face reddening. "Speak for yourself. I ain't crying. I have allergies."
"I owe all of you an apology. I care so deeply for all of you and I lost sight of that." Oishi's voice was shaking, but there was certainty beneath the tears in his eyes. "I want to become a team again. I want to forget all of this. If Fuji and Ryoma want to be together it's their business. And there's something else…" Oishi took in a deep breath and then spit the words out, as if afraid he'd lose is courage if he waited another second.
"I love Kikimaru Eiji. I love him more than life, more than right and wrong, more than society's useless judgments. I love him more than I love myself. And if anyone has a problem with that I'm sorry. But it isn't going to change."
His eyes searched for Eiji's and found them. The tears spilled over, falling freely and quickly, with no move made by either boy to stop them.
"I don't want it…to change."
Oishi held out a tentative hand. Ryoma was painfully reminded of the scene of the rooftop and his breath caught in his throat.
"I am sorry to interrupt." Ryuuzaki's voice pierced the delicate glass sphere that had encased them. She stood in the open doorway, a knowing smile on her face. "But your parents want you back before morning."
Oishi seemed to snap out of a trance. His hand snapped to his side. Ryoma nudged his other senpai into standing position. Tezuka looked over at him, hazel eyes clear and free of the sadness that had clouded them so.
Then the captain smiled a soft, warm smile that made Ryoma want nothing more than to stay with him forever.
I do love you, buchou…I think I always will.
A soft hand curled into his and Ryoma did not need to look to know that Fuji had gotten up. Tezuka's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, before drifting to Fuji. Clear, limitless cerulean eyes stared back at him, free of hate, free of anger.
A mutual understanding passed between them, an understanding that Ryoma knew he would never be able to understand.
And then Fuji's pink lips curled into one of those rare, genuine smiles that reminded Ryoma just why and how he loved him.
"That was a nice nap." He said, running a hand through his silken locks to smooth the damage. "I very much enjoyed it."
Ryoma's left eye twitched. "You….what?"
The coach cleared her throat. "Details can be sorted out later boys. Now it's time for you to go home."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Eleven twelve: The breath is stolen from Ryoma's lungs with a kiss. A kiss infused with enough passion to leave him standing outside of his doorstep wobbling for minutes after its end.
Eleven thirty five: Momoshiro receives a call. The words "It's really over, Momo-senpai," makes him laugh, laugh freely. And as soon as he is done laughing, he begins to cry.
Twelve, midnight: Fuji climbs through Eiji's open window and is greeted with a pillow to the face. Not a word passes between the two and the only sound is the steady whisper of peaceful sleep.
Twelve ten: Oishi lies awake watching the memories in his head. And waiting for an answer he truly doesn't want to hear.
Twelve eleven: Tears soak into freshly washed sheets. Seigaku's captain decides to forgo sleep tonight and simply wait for morning.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note: I hope you liked it. Please forgive the grammar and or spelling mistakes; I tried to get it out as soon as I could because I made you all wait so long. Please review!!!! Thanks!