(Kura: -cries- I meant to get this up earlier, don't kill me okay? D: )

Chapter 4

It was rather late at night, and it was a full moon. The moon was brightly visible through the glass pane of the windows despite the curtains covering them. The sky was also rather clear, with no clouds in sight. The bedroom was dark, with only the pathways of the light piercing their way through the glass, and the steady pacing of breaths could be heard lightly. The king-size bed, sitting next to a wall near one of the illuminated windows, was full. On the left was a woman with short hair sleeping peacefully, and on the right, was her husband lying on bed, not asleep, but rather, awake with both his eyes open. His mouth still had a rather soggy cigarette in it, but the man didn't seem to mind. His mind was on other things, after all.

Nanjiroh stared at his wife for a moment, turning his head to his right. He glimpsed and studied her for a moment before shifting his position back to his original one, his eyes facing the ceiling, and both of his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes for a moment and reflected upon what had happened in the past few days. His son not returning home, his discovery that his son had been kidnapped, and Ryoma's friends showing up to help him find the boy. He sighed quite heavily before opening his eyes again. His brain was ready to burn out just thinking about all that had happened. And now to think of what to do next tired him out even more.

He was ready to tuck himself into his covers and fall asleep, hoping that a good night's rest would help clear his mind out, when suddenly, he heard the phone ring. It rang once, and immediately he picked up. It was an instant reflex of his, to react to whatever sound he had heard in the silence. He turned his attention over to his wife for a brief moment before looking at the wireless phone, and he answered it.

"Hello?" he said with a rather hush and husky voice, hoping not to wake the person sleeping next to him. He felt her shift her position and murmur to herself, talking to herself in her sleep.

"Hello to you as well," replied the voice on the other side of the line. "I am quite pleased you were the one who picked up, Nanjiroh-san."

"It's you, isn't it?" angrily yet quietly barked Nanjiroh through the receiver, "Where the hell is the brat?"

"Oh, you mean this kid that's with me?" teasingly questioned the man with a slight chuckle, "He's just fine, oh, just fine." Then a laugh could be heard, and Nanjiroh simply gritted his teeth. Whoever kidnapped Ryoma was going to get it, he thought.

"What do you want?" He hissed down the phone, trying his damnedest to come off as menacing and not at all intimidated.

"What do I want?" The stranger echoed Nanjiroh's question with a lilt, then paused, as if to ponder. "Nothing much... apart from your utter downfall."

The line intoned silence.

----

A buzz. White noise, static, a final click. Inui readjusted his glasses and gave the device another tap. There was a 78% probability of it actually properly working now. He signaled a thumbs-up to Eiji, who had been waiting outside in the garden eagerly with a cell phone cradled in his hand.

The ring tone shot across the room where the regulars struggled to keep quiet. Inui unhooked the receiver for Nanjiroh, and looped the wire of a headset around his neck.

"NYAAAA! CAN YOU HEAR ME, OCHIBI-PAPA?!" Eiji practically yelled.

Inui kept his expression deadpan. "More than 60% of your voice has already been filtered through the open windows."

"...Oh. Sorry." He said sadly over the phone. "But it's okay, right, Oishi? As long as Ochibi gets found and then I can glomp him again and ruffle his --"

Inui raised another thumb. "The tapping device is ready. Press 1 here," on the attached machine, "to record the call. Press 2 for message replay."

Nanjiroh, with dark circles under his half-shut eyes and a bed head offered cookies as his thanks. If only he'd thought to seek Inui's help yesterday. He could have traced that stupid phone call, and he'd have his son back by now.

"Hey, weird monk, don't you have something other than cookies for breakfast?" Momo grumbled at the meager meal and heard his stomach.

Oishi shot Momo concerned looks. "That's not a very nice thing to say, Momo. How does pizza takeout sound? I'll place the order. Does anyone want anything else?" The other regulars politely turned down his offer --cookies were enough, and they were hardly in the mood to eat anyway.

Oishi, cautious as ever, was careful to use his cell phone, lest the kidnapper decided to call back.

----

The traffic was heavy that day. A pizza boy weaved in and out of lanes and dodged larger vehicles on his motorcycle, boxes of pizza strapped and nestled safely behind him.

At the next junction he pulled over by the curb and got down, checking the unfamiliar address. Outside a house, a young teenager stood waiting. "You must be the pizza boy," he smiled as he approached, bills wadded up in his fisted hand.

The delivery boy nodded. "Here they are, sir." He handed them over, accepting the bills at the same time. Mission accomplished. He turned back to his bike.

And subsequently failed to notice the teenager pouring packets of powder onto the fresh pizza slices.

Back at the Echizen residence, Oishi rose to answer the door. "You must be the pizza boy," he remarked with a smile. "Thank you for the hard work. Here is the money."

The teenager took the money and left.

"Yeeeeaaaahhhhh, pizza!" Momo pumped a fist into the air, impatiently opening the boxes and inhaling the aroma. He didn't even bother to use utensils as slice after slice was shoved into his mouth. "Yummy!"

"Be careful of poison." Fuji commented jokingly.

Ring, ring.

The chatter hushed. Inui shared the earpiece with Tezuka with Nanjiroh on the landline. "Hello?"

"Hello, Nanjiroh."

"Don't beat about the bush now. How much do you want?"

"You're giving me money? My, I'm flattered." A laugh, crisp and hollow and sharp. "By the way, how are you liking your gourmet surprise?"

Inui and Tezuka exchanged glances. Nanjiroh tightened his grip on the receiver. "Oi, stop talking in puzzles, will you?" The regulars looked on, similar worried expressions on their faces. What did he mean?

It was Oishi who first noticed the absence of Momo's untimely outbursts. Said boy was slumped over the coffee table, one hand clutching at his abdomen.

---

Ryoma was still none-the-wiser as to who his mysterious kidnapper was. Time seemed to stretch forever in his dark, little room. At regular intervals (Ryoma estimated five or so hours but he couldn't be sure) someone came into the room with some bread and water. Ryoma tried to let it last, but he'd usually just swallow it all up straight away.

What he wouldn't give for Nanako's cooking right now...

Ryoma was shocked to discover how quickly he was beginning to wither away. His skin was getting paler and he suspected his face was becoming gaunter. He experienced sharp pains in his stomach from lack of food. None of the effects were permanent yet, but Ryoma was getting the feeling that by the time he got back on the tennis court, he'd be more than just a little rusty.

After what seemed like years and years of inactivity but was actually merely days, someone came to visit Ryoma in his prison.

It was him. His kidnapper.

Ryoma felt his breathing hitch and his stomach tighten up. He sat up and glared at the man who was looking down at him. No way was he going to show fear. This man was just like one of those hotshots who tried to intimidate him on the tennis court.

Of course, the situation was entirely different, but...

"Well, well, if it isn't Ryoma-kun." The man was smiling. Ryoma instinctively paled at the sight. "I wonder what you're doing here. You must be thinking about that too."

"Che." If Ryoma had his cap, he would have pulled it over his eyes, just so he could avoid his kidnapper's gaze. "It's your fault."

"No," the man replied, suddenly opening his eyes. He was frightening. Ryoma could see the whites of his eyes. "No," the man said again. "It's your father's fault."

With great difficulty, Ryoma stopped himself from stuttering his next question. "How?"

"Nanjiroh," the man explained, "did me a great injustice before you were born. I was about to get my revenge on him before he quit playing tennis and went to live in America. I lost all track of him.

"And then... He came back to Japan. With a child. You.

"I despise you. Nanjiroh quit tennis to raise you. You can't imagine what he could have accomplished or what I could have done to him had it not been for you. Because of you, I lost sight of Nanjiroh for twelve years."

"That's not such a big deal," Ryoma said before he could stop himself.

"SILENCE!" the man yelled. Ryoma realised then that he was crazy. "So now..." the man continued with a chuckle that chilled Ryoma to the very core, "I am going to get back at Nanjiroh... through you. I'm going to make sure you never play tennis again."

The intense fear that Ryoma had felt on that day he had been kidnapped suddenly came back to him. He couldn't speak at all, just buried his head in his arms. He suddenly began to cry.