PLEASE READ THIS BLURB!!

I finally finished typing the next chapter!! I hope you all will like it!!!! =3

Oh yah, so here's a question lots of people are asking: What happened to Momo?
He'll show up soon! Dontcha worry. ;P I think this is goina be a long fanfiction… ._. Dah. xD I hope y'all don't mind!!

Anyways… OMG 20 pages typed. A new record! I usually type 6 pages per chapter. xD

Disclaimer: PoT not mine. If it is, I'd make sure everyone has a chance to 'attack' Ryoma. =]
Main Pairing In Chapter: AtoRyo/Royal Pair
Rating: Rated T-
Warnings: Light foreplay
Next Chapter: Around June 9th. (next week ish)

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Caught?

Standing alone at the door was Sakuno. He face showed utter shock, pain, red, and blankness. While she was watching Atobe kissing Ryoma, she felt… sad, hurt…embarrassed for intruding…….. she wanted to run away and cry her heart out… but she couldn't. She loved Ryoma for a long time but now………… Tears formed on her eyes as her vision blurred. She shook her head and returned her gaze to the two boys. Atobe and Ryoma were staring back at her. Quickly, her mind tries to process what she saw.

Atobe and Ryoma's lips were touching.
Ryoma looked as though he didn't want it.
Atobe seemed very persistent and very into it.
Ryoma seemed pissed.

Going back to reality, she suddenly realized the situation quite clearly in her mind. She made eye contact with Atobe. "Atobe-senpai…."

"Hmm?"

"If Ryoma-kun doesn't want to then you really shouldn't……." Sakuno blushed, fidgeting as she looked at Ryoma who looked away, wanting to die. "…you really shouldn't practice CPR on him….." Sakuno looked back at Atobe, her eyes showed concern and justice.

Ryoma literally choked on his own spit while Atobe almost fell off the desk. He stared at her weirdly.

"E-err!!! I'm sorry for intruding!! P-p-please continue!!" stuttered Sakuno, bashfully. What am I talking about?!!!

"Ah… yes… If you don't mind…" Atobe put on his smirk again as he leaned towards Ryoma again, ready to 'practice CPR' on him again. Ryoma sat up, pushing Atobe off him using his free hand. He held onto Atobe's collar.

"I think that's enough CPR practice for today, don't you think so? Senpaii." said Ryoma through clenched teeth. He gave him the 'I'll-kill-you-promise-or-no-promise' glare. Atobe sweat drop.

"O-okay." Atobe quickly stopped attacking him and got off. Ryoma buttoned up his clothes and tried to make himself less disheveled as he recited the multiplication table in his head quickly to get rid of his 'excited' member right before the rest of the class entered the classroom. Ryoma sighed in relief and tiredness. He's been through enough heart-attacking moments.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ryoma sat next to the window at the desk at the back of the class with Atobe sitting on the right of him. Horio and his 3rd year partner sat at the table just in front of theirs. Katsuo and Oshitari sat at the desk next to them while Kachirou and Jirou sat at the desk diagonal from them. The teacher haven't arrived yet and seizing the opportunity; Horio turned around and scooted over to Ryoma with his chair so that they were sitting in front of each other on either sides of the table. Ryoma looked out the window and rested his head on his hand, waiting for Horio to start and finish talking.

"Ne ne! Echizen! Y'know, my partner's so cool! His name is Chinou-senpai and he…. blab la bla bal blab la blab la bala blab la bla because….." Horio stopped talking.

Ryoma looked back at Horio, wondering why he suddenly stopped talking…which was a surprise, not that he was listening.

"Echizen, why were you drooling??" asked Horio.

"Drooling?" Ryoma touched his chin with his willowy fingers. Shit! He forgot to wipe away the excess saliva afterwards when Atobe kissed him! Horio took out a tissue and started wiping Ryoma's mouth for him.

"Maaww, you shouldn't develop the habit of drooling when you sleep, Echizen!" Horio tsked.

Beside him, Ryoma could feel an angry, dark aura form around Atobe as Horio continued to wipe Ryoma's face.

"A-ano, I think I can do it myself thank you!" Ryoma stopped Horio, probably saving his life. Everyone stopped talking and went back to their desks as the health substitute teacher came into the class. Apparently, the actual teacher got sick, or so she says.

"H-hajimemashite, I w-will be your health teacher for today. My name is Ani Mitsuka. P-please call me Ani-sensei. Y-y-y-oroshiku!" the teacher stuttered out and bowed. Ani-sensei didn't look like a sensei at all! More like a 15 year old!! She had orange hair that is cut at shoulder length. Her eyes were green and she was wearing formal teacher clothes. She's very bashful, nervous and shy. Right away, she had a large fan club. "L-let's see… today we shall be learning about….." Ani-sensei took a look at the teacher's notes. "…ah…" she turned red and fainted. Health class was then replaced with Phys. Ed until they could find another replacement which resulted in cheering.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ryoma sighed for the umpteenth time that day when random fan girls started crowding the soccer field and screaming his or Atobe's name. They were playing soccer outside with the other 3rd year class along with their freshman partner. Atobe and Ryoma's team was pwning them badly. Wait… never mind. It was team Atobe and Ryoma that was pwning them. Throughout the whole game, the only people who kicked the ball was Atobe and Ryoma. They were way too fast for the opposing team and were way too good for help from their classmates. Strangely, they were amazingly compatible together.

In the end, the royal pair won hands down without breaking a sweat.

"Kyaaaa~!!!! Atobe-samaa!!! Ryoma-samaaa~!!!!" all the fan girls were cheering their hearts out while they signed up for the Ryoma fan club from president Tomoko and the Atobe fan club from the Hyotei girls (the three sorry Atobe-obsessed fan girls from the series).

"You're not too bad at soccer, brat." Atobe smirked.

"As are you." Ryoma nonchalantly replied.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

So this is what 3rd year English class was like. The teachers here were very strict and since the freshmen weren't at 3rd year level, they did not give them homework but expected them to listen to the lesson. Ryoma yawned. What they taught here was like what was taught in grade 3 in America. Ryoma fell asleep on the single desk which was located next to the window. Atobe was sitting on the desk next to him. He tapped the sleeping boy on the shoulder. No good. Man is he goina get busted. Atobe rubbed his temple as he felt a headache coming along as Mr. Mailbox (the English teacher. He is tall and skinny with Tezuka-style glasses and black, short hair with a black suit. He looked very scary and intimidating mostly because of his height and evil, strict aura around him.) slowly approached Ryoma's desk. He suddenly slapped a hand on the desk very hard, making a loud noise that made everyone in the room flinch except for Ryoma. The freshman slowly sat up and looked up at the teacher with bored eyes.

"Mr. Echizen, please recite the poem The Self-Seeker and A Servant to Servants by Robert Frost. If you fail to do so, I will have to give you detention." Mr. Mailbox said, hiding a smirk. The class gasped. The Self-Seeker and A Servant to Servants were the two longest poems written by Robert Frost. He's asking for the impossible!

Ryoma only sighed and stood up. "The Self-Seeker by Robert Frost."

Mr. Mailbox's eyes widened behind his glasses. Is he seriously going to recite them?!

(A/N: All the italics here are the words of the poem. You don't have to read all of it if you don't want to. =P His poetry is absolutely wonderful, it is recommended!!)

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"WILLIS, I didn't want you here to-day:
The lawyer's coming for the company.
I'm going to sell my soul, or, rather, feet.
Five hundred dollars for the pair, you know."
"With you the feet have nearly been the soul;
And if you're going to sell them to the devil,
I want to see you do it. When's he coming?"
"I half suspect you knew, and came on purpose
To try to help me drive a better bargain."
"Well, if it's true! Yours are no common feet.
The lawyer don't know what it is he's buying:
So many miles you might have walked you won't walk.
You haven't run your forty orchids down.
What does he think?--How are the blessed feet?
The doctor's sure you're going to walk again?"
"He thinks I'll hobble. It's both legs and feet."
"They must be terrible--I mean to look at."
"I haven't dared to look at them uncovered.
Through the bed blankets I remind myself
Of a starfish laid out with rigid points."
"The wonder is it hadn't been your head."
"It's hard to tell you how I managed it.
When I saw the shaft had me by the coat,
I didn't try too long to pull away,
Or fumble for my knife to cut away,
I just embraced the shaft and rode it out--
Till Weiss shut off the water in the wheel-pit.
That's how I think I didn't lose my head.
But my legs got their knocks against the ceiling."
"Awful. Why didn't they throw off the belt
Instead of going clear down in the wheel-pit?"
"They say some time was wasted on the belt--
Old streak of leather--doesn't love me much
Because I make him spit fire at my knuckles,
The way Ben Franklin used to make the kite-string.
That must be it. Some days he won't stay on.
That day a woman couldn't coax him off.
He's on his rounds now with his tail in his mouth
Snatched right and left across the silver pulleys.
Everything goes the same without me there.
You can hear the small buzz saws whine, the big saw
Caterwaul to the hills around the village
As they both bite the wood. It's all our music.
One ought as a good villager to like it.
No doubt it has a sort of prosperous sound,
And it's our life."
"Yes, when it's not our death."
"You make that sound as if it wasn't so
With everything. What we live by we die by.
I wonder where my lawyer is. His train's in.
I want this over with; I'm hot and tired."
"You're getting ready to do something foolish."
"Watch for him, will you, Will? You let him in.
I'd rather Mrs. Corbin didn't know;
I've boarded here so long, she thinks she owns me.
You're bad enough to manage without her."
"And I'm going to be worse instead of better.
You've got to tell me how far this is gone:
Have you agreed to any price?"
"Five hundred.
Five hundred--five--five! One, two, three, four, five.
You needn't look at me."
"I don't believe you."
"I told you, Willis, when you first came in.
Don't you be hard on me. I have to take
What I can get. You see they have the feet,
Which gives them the advantage in the trade.
I can't get back the feet in any case."
"But your flowers, man, you're selling out your flowers."
"Yes, that's one way to put it--all the flowers
Of every kind everywhere in this region
For the next forty summers--call it forty.
But I'm not selling those, I'm giving them,
They never earned me so much as one cent:
Money can't pay me for the loss of them.
No, the five hundred was the sum they named
To pay the doctor's bill and tide me over.
It's that or fight, and I don't want to fight--
I just want to get settled in my life,
Such as it's going to be, and know the worst,
Or best--it may not be so bad. The firm
Promise me all the shooks I want to nail."
"But what about your flora of the valley?"
"You have me there. But that--you didn't think
That was worth money to me? Still I own
It goes against me not to finish it
For the friends it might bring me. By the way,
I had a letter from Burroughs--did I tell you?--
About my Cyprepedium reginæ;
He says it's not reported so far north.
There! there's the bell. He's rung. But you go down
And bring him up, and don't let Mrs. Corbin.--
Oh, well, we'll soon be through with it. I'm tired."
Willis brought up besides the Boston lawyer
A little barefoot girl who in the noise
Of heavy footsteps in the old frame house,
And baritone importance of the lawyer,
Stood for a while unnoticed with her hands
Shyly behind her.
"Well, and how is Mister----"
The lawyer was already in his satchel
As if for papers that might bear the name
He hadn't at command. "You must excuse me,
I dropped in at the mill and was detained."
"Looking round, I suppose," said Willis.
"Yes,
Well, yes."
"Hear anything that might prove useful?"
The Broken One saw Anne. "Why, here is Anne.
What do you want, dear? Come, stand by the bed;
Tell me what is it?" Anne just wagged her dress
With both hands held behind her. "Guess," she said.
"Oh, guess which hand? My my! Once on a time
I knew a lovely way to tell for certain
By looking in the ears. But I forget it.
Er, let me see. I think I'll take the right.
That's sure to be right even if it's wrong.
Come, hold it out. Don't change.--A Ram's Horn orchid!
A Ram's Horn! What would I have got, I wonder,
If I had chosen left. Hold out the left.
Another Ram's Horn! Where did you find those,
Under what beech tree, on what woodchuck's knoll?"
Anne looked at the large lawyer at her side,
And thought she wouldn't venture on so much.
"Were there no others?"
"There were four or five.
I knew you wouldn't let me pick them all."
"I wouldn't--so I wouldn't. You're the girl!
You see Anne has her lesson learned by heart."
"I wanted there should be some there next year."
"Of course you did. You left the rest for seed,
And for the backwoods woodchuck. You're the girl!
A Ram's Horn orchid seedpod for a woodchuck
Sounds something like. Better than farmer's beans
To a discriminating appetite,
Though the Ram's Horn is seldom to be had
In bushel lots--doesn't come on the market.
But, Anne, I'm troubled; have you told me all?
You're hiding something. That's as bad as lying.
You ask this lawyer man. And it's not safe
With a lawyer at hand to find you out.
Nothing is hidden from some people, Anne.
You don't tell me that where you found a Ram's Horn
You didn't find a Yellow Lady's Slipper.
What did I tell you? What? I'd blush, I would.
Don't you defend yourself. If it was there,
Where is it now, the Yellow Lady's Slipper?"
"Well, wait--it's common--it's too common."
"Common?
The Purple Lady's Slipper's commoner."
"I didn't bring a Purple Lady's Slipper
To You--to you I mean--they're both too common."
The lawyer gave a laugh among his papers
As if with some idea that she had scored.
"I've broken Anne of gathering bouquets.
It's not fair to the child. It can't be helped though:
Pressed into service means pressed out of shape.
Somehow I'll make it right with her--she'll see.
She's going to do my scouting in the field,
Over stone walls and all along a wood
And by a river bank for water flowers,
The floating Heart, with small leaf like a heart,
And at the sinus under water a fist
Of little fingers all kept down but one,
And that thrust up to blossom in the sun
As if to say, 'You! You're the Heart's desire.'
Anne has a way with flowers to take the place
Of that she's lost: she goes down on one knee
And lifts their faces by the chin to hers
And says their names, and leaves them where they are."
The lawyer wore a watch the case of which
Was cunningly devised to make a noise
Like a small pistol when he snapped it shut
At such a time as this. He snapped it now.
"Well, Anne, go, dearie. Our affair will wait.
The lawyer man is thinking of his train.
He wants to give me lots and lots of money
Before he goes, because I hurt myself,
And it may take him I don't know how long.
But put our flowers in water first. Will, help her:
The pitcher's too full for her. There's no cup?
Just hook them on the inside of the pitcher.
Now run.--Get out your documents! You see
I have to keep on the good side of Anne.
I'm a great boy to think of number one.
And you can't blame me in the place I'm in.
Who will take care of my necessities
Unless I do?"
"A pretty interlude,"
The lawyer said. "I'm sorry, but my train--
Luckily terms are all agreed upon.
You only have to sign your name. Right--there."
"You, Will, stop making faces. Come round here
Where you can't make them. What is it you want?
I'll put you out with Anne. Be good or go."
"You don't mean you will sign that thing unread?"
"Make yourself useful then, and read it for me.
Isn't it something I have seen before?"
"You'll find it is. Let your friend look at it."
"Yes, but all that takes time, and I'm as much
In haste to get it over with as you.
But read it, read it. That's right, draw the curtain:
Half the time I don't know what's troubling me.--
What do you say, Will? Don't you be a fool,
You! crumpling folkses legal documents.
Out with it if you've any real objection."
"Five hundred dollars!"
"What would you think right?"
"A thousand wouldn't be a cent too much;
You know it, Mr. Lawyer. The sin is
Accepting anything before he knows
Whether he's ever going to walk again.
It smells to me like a dishonest trick."
"I think--I think--from what I heard to-day--
And saw myself--he would be ill-advised----"
"What did you hear, for instance?" Willis said.
"Now the place where the accident occurred----"
The Broken One was twisted in his bed.
"This is between you two apparently.
Where I come in is what I want to know.
You stand up to it like a pair of cocks.
Go outdoors if you want to fight. Spare me.
When you come back, I'll have the papers signed.
Will pencil do? Then, please, your fountain pen.
One of you hold my head up from the pillow."
Willis flung off the bed. "I wash my hands--
I'm no match--no, and don't pretend to be----"
The lawyer gravely capped his fountain pen.
"You're doing the wise thing: you won't regret it.
We're very sorry for you."
Willis sneered:
"Who's we?--some stockholders in Boston?
I'll go outdoors, by gad, and won't come back."
"Willis, bring Anne back with you when you come.
Yes. Thanks for caring. Don't mind Will: he's savage.
He thinks you ought to pay me for my flowers.
You don't know what I mean about the flowers.
Don't stop to try to now. You'll miss your train.
Good-bye." He flung his arms around his face.

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Jaws dropped. The world was silent. Ryoma just continued. "A Servant of Servants by Robert Frost."

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I didn't make you know how glad I was
To have you come and camp here on our land.
I promised myself to get down some day
And see the way you lived, but I don't know!
With a houseful of hungry men to feed
I guess you'd find.... It seems to me
I can't express my feelings any more
Than I can raise my voice or want to lift
My hand (oh, I can lift it when I have to).
Did ever you feel so? I hope you never.
It's got so I don't even know for sure
Whether I am glad, sorry, or anything.
There's nothing but a voice-like left inside
That seems to tell me how I ought to feel,
And would feel if I wasn't all gone wrong.
You take the lake. I look and look at it.
I see it's a fair, pretty sheet of water.
I stand and make myself repeat out loud
The advantages it has, so long and narrow,
Like a deep piece of some old running river
Cut short off at both ends. It lies five miles
Straight away through the mountain notch
From the sink window where I wash the plates,
And all our storms come up toward the house,
Drawing the slow waves whiter and whiter and whiter.
It took my mind off doughnuts and soda biscuit
To step outdoors and take the water dazzle
A sunny morning, or take the rising wind
About my face and body and through my wrapper,
When a storm threatened from the Dragon's Den,
And a cold chill shivered across the lake.
I see it's a fair, pretty sheet of water,
Our Willoughby! How did you hear of it?
I expect, though, everyone's heard of it.
In a book about ferns? Listen to that!
You let things more like feathers regulate
Your going and coming. And you like it here?
I can see how you might. But I don't know!
It would be different if more people came,
For then there would be business. As it is,
The cottages Len built, sometimes we rent them,
Sometimes we don't. We've a good piece of shore
That ought to be worth something, and may yet.
But I don't count on it as much as Len.
He looks on the bright side of everything,
Including me. He thinks I'll be all right
With doctoring. But it's not medicine--
Lowe is the only doctor's dared to say so--
It's rest I want--there, I have said it out--
From cooking meals for hungry hired men
And washing dishes after them--from doing
Things over and over that just won't stay done.
By good rights I ought not to have so much
Put on me, but there seems no other way.
Len says one steady pull more ought to do it.
He says the best way out is always through.
And I agree to that, or in so far
As that I can see no way out but through--
Leastways for me--and then they'll be convinced.
It's not that Len don't want the best for me.
It was his plan our moving over in
Beside the lake from where that day I showed you
We used to live--ten miles from anywhere.
We didn't change without some sacrifice,
But Len went at it to make up the loss.
His work's a man's, of course, from sun to sun,
But he works when he works as hard as I do--
Though there's small profit in comparisons.
(Women and men will make them all the same.)
But work ain't all. Len undertakes too much.
He's into everything in town. This year
It's highways, and he's got too many men
Around him to look after that make waste.
They take advantage of him shamefully,
And proud, too, of themselves for doing so.
We have four here to board, great good-for-nothings,
Sprawling about the kitchen with their talk
While I fry their bacon. Much they care!
No more put out in what they do or say
Than if I wasn't in the room at all.
Coming and going all the time, they are:
I don't learn what their names are, let alone
Their characters, or whether they are safe
To have inside the house with doors unlocked.
I'm not afraid of them, though, if they're not
Afraid of me. There's two can play at that.
I have my fancies: it runs in the family.
My father's brother wasn't right. They kept him
Locked up for years back there at the old farm.
I've been away once--yes, I've been away.
The State Asylum. I was prejudiced;
I wouldn't have sent anyone of mine there;
You know the old idea--the only asylum
Was the poorhouse, and those who could afford,
Rather than send their folks to such a place,
Kept them at home; and it does seem more human.
But it's not so: the place is the asylum.
There they have every means proper to do with,
And you aren't darkening other people's lives--
Worse than no good to them, and they no good
To you in your condition; you can't know
Affection or the want of it in that state.
I've heard too much of the old-fashioned way.
My father's brother, he went mad quite young.
Some thought he had been bitten by a dog,
Because his violence took on the form
Of carrying his pillow in his teeth;
But it's more likely he was crossed in love,
Or so the story goes. It was some girl.
Anyway all he talked about was love.
They soon saw he would do someone a mischief
If he wa'n't kept strict watch of, and it ended
In father's building him a sort of cage,
Or room within a room, of hickory poles,
Like stanchions in the barn, from floor to ceiling,--
A narrow passage all the way around.
Anything they put in for furniture
He'd tear to pieces, even a bed to lie on.
So they made the place comfortable with straw,
Like a beast's stall, to ease their consciences.
Of course they had to feed him without dishes.
They tried to keep him clothed, but he paraded
With his clothes on his arm--all of his clothes.
Cruel--it sounds. I 'spose they did the best
They knew. And just when he was at the height,
Father and mother married, and mother came,
A bride, to help take care of such a creature,
And accommodate her young life to his.
That was what marrying father meant to her.
She had to lie and hear love things made dreadful
By his shouts in the night. He'd shout and shout
Until the strength was shouted out of him,
And his voice died down slowly from exhaustion.
He'd pull his bars apart like bow and bow-string,
And let them go and make them twang until
His hands had worn them smooth as any ox-bow.
And then he'd crow as if he thought that child's play--
The only fun he had. I've heard them say, though,
They found a way to put a stop to it.
He was before my time--I never saw him;
But the pen stayed exactly as it was
There in the upper chamber in the ell,
A sort of catch-all full of attic clutter.
I often think of the smooth hickory bars.
It got so I would say--you know, half fooling--
"It's time I took my turn upstairs in jail"--
Just as you will till it becomes a habit.
No wonder I was glad to get away.
Mind you, I waited till Len said the word.
I didn't want the blame if things went wrong.
I was glad though, no end, when we moved out,
And I looked to be happy, and I was,
As I said, for a while--but I don't know!
Somehow the change wore out like a prescription.
And there's more to it than just window-views
And living by a lake. I'm past such help--
Unless Len took the notion, which he won't,
And I won't ask him--it's not sure enough.
I 'spose I've got to go the road I'm going:
Other folks have to, and why shouldn't I?
I almost think if I could do like you,
Drop everything and live out on the ground--
But it might be, come night, I shouldn't like it,
Or a long rain. I should soon get enough,
And be glad of a good roof overhead.
I've lain awake thinking of you, I'll warrant,
More than you have yourself, some of these nights.
The wonder was the tents weren't snatched away
From over you as you lay in your beds.
I haven't courage for a risk like that.
Bless you, of course, you're keeping me from work,
But the thing of it is, I need to be kept.
There's work enough to do--there's always that;
But behind's behind. The worst that you can do
Is set me back a little more behind.
I sha'n't catch up in this world, anyway.
I'd rather you'd not go unless you must.

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Perfect English. By the time he finished reciting these poems, everyone had turned white and shocked.

They had double English period, so Ryoma slept through the remaining period, leaving Mr. Mailbox too shocked to actually do or teach anything. Atobe just sighed and shook his head as he tried to find out whether Ryoma was simply amazing, or just weird in a creepy way.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lunch Time~

Ryoma made his way to the school's roof. He laid down and pushed his hat down over his eyes as he fell asleep. He woke up to the sound of tennis racket making contact with a tennis ball, hitting the floor, wall, and back. He opened his eyes and found that he was leaning against the fence of the school roof with someone's Hyotei coat over him like a blanket. He looked to his right and Atobe was sitting next to him, playing tennis with the door in front of them that lead to downstairs. His eyes widened. He was sleeping on Atobe's left shoulder while Atobe's arm wrapped around Ryoma. Feeling movement, Atobe caught the ball still with his racket and looked over at Ryoma and smirked/smiled.

"Finally awake now, Himesama? (princess)" Atobe teased.

Ryoma glared at him and pushed away. "Taking advantage of a sleeping person, isn't that a bit low, Monkey King?"

"But you were too cute, I couldn't resist." Atobe hid a chuckle as Ryoma blushed pink out of anger and embarrassment. "Besides, you'll catch a cold out here sleeping."

Ryoma stayed silent and looked away, still blushing.

"Did you eat?" Atobe changed the subject.

"No. I wasn't hungry."

"That is one of the reasons why you'll stay a bean sprout forever. You're almost as light as my tennis bag and I only have a few rackets in there."

Ryoma twitched. "You should fix yourself mentally or you'll stay a Monkey King forever."

Atobe sighed, knowing that although he is stubborn, he can never beat Ryoma at it. He smirked. "Let's go back, class is going to start soon."

"Sure." Ryoma was about to stand up but Atobe snatched his hat away. "G-give it back!"

"No way, ore-sama doesn't like this hat." Atobe grinned, holding the hat up and away from Ryoma.

"That's more the reason for me to wear it!" Ryoma reached for his hat over Atobe. The senpai laughed and pulled Ryoma into himself and kissed the little brat senseless as his left hand caressed his ass. "Hnn?!" Ryoma blushed.

He pushed him away. "C-class is going to start!" Ryoma grabbed his hat back and stormed off the roof. Atobe just stared after the running boy.

"You can run and hide, but you can't escape from ore-sama." Atobe muttered to himself as he started to follow Ryoma.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Music Class!

Great, just great. Apparently, those who did not register for instrument into Hyotei have to sing. Everyone was seated on single chairs that were lined up in rows with no desks.

"Hi, minasan (everyone)!!!! Today, we shall have each pair sing or play a song for us!" The music teacher, Saya-sensei sang out. She had pink, long hair with blue eyes and wore a long purple dress.

"Che." Ryoma muttered. Throughout the whole time of senior and freshman taking turns to go up to the front to sing/play an instrument together, he was hoping that there won't be enough time for Atobe and himself to go up.

Chino tried to play Apologize by One Republic on the piano while Horio sang. It would be nice, except Horio's voice was so bad, it hurts listening to him. Kachirou and Jirou sang a random song no one knew and it sounded off tune. Katsuo and Oshitari didn't sing 'cause Katsuo fainted from embarrassment when they went to the front of the class. All in all, everyone sucked 'cause no one has ever practiced nor did any of the freshmen had musical talent whatsoever.

Ugh. It was Atobe and Ryoma's turn. Ryoma cursed his luck.

"Are you going to sing?" asked Ryoma, clearly uninterested as the two boys made their way to the front of the class.

"Nope. I play the synthesizer." Atobe smirked. (A/N: According to my friend, the synthesizer is like a piano keyboard and it can produce the sounds of different instruments like drums, flutes, violins….etc. Lots of buttons on it.)

A shadow passed over Ryoma's face. He's going to be singing alone.

"I'm not singing." Ryoma objected as Atobe made himself comfortable at the synthesizer next to Ryoma.

"Trust me." Atobe smiled. He started by playing the piano.

(A/N: While reading, please listen to the song "Thank you for…" sang by Ryoma. Just go to www(dot)youtube(dot)com and type in "Ryoma Thank you for…" and click on one or just download the song. =D­­)

Unable to help himself, Ryoma closed his eyes at the beautiful melody. It was played with emotion, and it was full of heart. As if magic, lyrics came out of nowhere and he started singing.

Gasps and shock ran through the classroom as he sang.

xxLISTEN TO THE WHOLE SONG PLEASE!!!xx

What is this feeling…? It feels warm… I can feel Atobe-senpai's feelings in the notes he plays. I'm singing right now? I never sang before! What are these words? I never heard of them before… It feels so nostalgic…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thank you for… sang by Echizen Ryoma (Junko Minagawa)


Awai hanabira ga yurete
Shizuka ni maiorita toki
Kisetsu hakobu chiisa na kaze
Boku no naka toorisugita

Tsuyosa wo mashita hizashi ga
Atarashii jidai wo tsugeru
Tashika ni nagareteru toki wo
Tometakute hitomi tojita

Tooku kara kikoeteru
Kikinareta waraigoe
Ashita kara wa koko ni inai
Tomo ni kakenuketa hito-tachi

Kokoro kara omoeru yo Deaete yokatta to
Yasashii hibi ga Mune wo yogitte wa kieteyuku
"Omedetou" Doushite mo iesou ni nai kara
Koko kara kaze ni nose Sotto tsubuyaku

Konna kimochi ga aru koto
Shirazu ni ikitekita kedo
Odayaka na tanoshii toki ga
Sukoshizutsu boku wo kaeta

Ano hi ni mebae-hajimeta
Tsuyosa e no atsui omoi
Ima demo kawaranu hageshisa de
Takami dake mezashiteiru

Oshietekureta koto
Zenbu dakishime nagara
Hajimari ga sugu soko ni aru
Bokutachi no jidai wo ikiru

Kokoro kara omoeru yo Deaete yokatta to
Yasashii egao Wasurenai you ni yakitsukete
"Arigatou" Kao wo mite iesou ni nai kara
COURT ni sotto Chiisaku tsubuyaita

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ryoma opened his eyes. His heart felt warm and light, as though he just threw off an invisible weight off of himself. The last bit of piano solo finished. Everyone was silent. Did he do bad? Was he awful? Everyone was just gaping at them!

After moments of silent, the whole class started to scream and cheer their lungs out. Almost all the freshmen jumped at Ryoma.

"Echizen!! I never knew you could sing like that!!!!" Horio was crying and gave Ryoma a noogie.

"That was wonderful!!" Katsou and Kachiro clapped, wiping away tears.

It was so beautiful!!! Atobe and Ryoma's song reached out to everyone. Everyone was crying and sobbing.

"You did it, brat." Atobe pat Ryoma's head like a dog.

Ryoma blushed. "Urusai!" He walked back to his desk, ignoring the crying and admiring eyes of the freshmen and seniors. He rested a hand on his chest when everyone's attention was redirected at the teacher. He looked down and blushed again. While he was singing with Atobe performing with him, it was like he was in a whole different world. He felt… happy and...yahh..kinda like in tennis except more reassuring.

"Anyways, I hope you all had fun today and see you soon!!" said Saya-sensei as the bell rang.

Walking down the hall, fan girls crowded the two boys and begged them to perform another song and some were still crying from the performance before. Atobe grabbed Ryoma's hand and both of them ran to their next class with a herd of obsessive fan girls chased after them.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Falling back to his bored and emotionless state, Ryoma slept through math and science class. Another two of his specialties. Once again, he overpowered the teachers in both brains and refinement.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Finally, school ended!

Atobe and Ryoma quickly made their way out of the school which was no longer safe and got into Atobe's limo before any of the fan girls caught up.

"A limo?" Ryoma questioned as their chauffeur started driving them home.

"But of course, ore-sama is too great to walk. Walking is for poor people." Atobe flipped his perfect hair.

Ryoma snapped but somehow managed to restrain his actions. Who knows what Atobe would do to him if he didn't. Seeing this, his senpai laughed.

School was much more interesting with Ryoma with him. "You're such a weird brat."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Arriving home, Ryoma flopped down on Atobe's huge bed, exhausted. Atobe was unpacking his school bag as Sebastian knocked on the door.

"Atobe-sama? You have a phone call."

"Tell them I'm busy." he replied without looking up.

"It's from the Seishun Gakuen Principle."

"….come in." Atobe took the phone from the butler.

"Hello? Is this Keigo Atobe-san?" asked the principle.

"The one and only." Atobe made a gesture to Sebastian. The butler nodded and left. "Is there something you need?" he asked, closing the door.

…

…

…

…

A shadow passed over Atobe's face. "Okay. I understand. Bye." he hung up.

Ryoma looked at him while still lying on the bed. "What was that?"

Atobe stayed silent. He went over to the bed and went on top of Ryoma, resting his hands on the bed on either side of the kohai's head.

"A-atobe-senpai?" asked Ryoma. He was scared. Did something happen? What did the principle say to Atobe?

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Wow! Happy to serious in one short phone call? What's Atobe goina do? Stay tuned for the next chapter!

Please review!!! Just click the review button and write what you think. Is it good? Bad? Criticism, corrections and what you want is very much appreciated! Just be nice? xD Anyways, I hope you all liked it!!!

~Kiyu-chan