Part 2

Before the sun had gone down it had been a little chilly, but now that night had fallen Akaya's breath was clouding in front of his face almost enough to obscure his vision of the balls. At this point he hardly needed to see them anyway. He wasn't sure how long he'd been at the run-down one court tennis area near his house; long enough that sweat was pouring over him and he'd stripped down to his shorts and tennis shirt despite the cold. Long enough that the motion of hitting the balls against the practice wall, over and over, had become automatic and his brain had started to go numb. Long enough that his breath was coming in heaving gasps, and his arms and legs burned from the strain.

He was using two balls, smashing them one after another into the wall in a steady rhythm, darting from side to side. At the top of his form he could sometimes manage three, but he was exhausted enough now that he was considering dropping to one.

It was a form of meditation for him, and he welcomed the ache in his body. When he was this tired and this focused, he wasn't able to think about anything, only react to the ball. Better yet, he wasn't able to hear the whispers of his own personal demon unless he stopped moving long enough for his brain to start working again. Some days, it was the only escape he had.

Kamio waved goodbye to Shinji as they came out of the burger joint that was their favourite after-school haunt, and jogged across the street, rubbing his hands together as they prickled with cold. Why do I always forget my damn gloves, he thought irritably as he continued down the street, jogging lightly to keep warm.

He and Shinji had headed straight to the burger joint, and Kamio had spent the next hour complaining loudly about the new addition to their team. They then had put their heads together to try to figure out just why Kirihara had shown up, but the most plausible explanations they'd been able to come up with were that he'd gone even more crazy than they already knew he was, or that it was all some kind of prank.

They'd worked on english and math homework until Kamio's fingers began to cramp, and then finally called the evening quits. And for the last hour or so, Kamio had completely forgotten about the unwelcome visitor to their school.

Forgotten so completely, however, that when he heard the sound of someone practicing - or several someones, from the sound of the balls - on a street court that should be covered in snow, he didn't think of Kirihara at all.

At least, until he reached the top of the stairs and saw him.

Despite himself, he had to take a moment to simply admire the other boy. Keeping two balls in the air like that - particularly since it looked like he'd been doing it for quite a while - was nothing short of amazing. He didn't realize that he was simply standing there, gaping at the other boy.

The steady rhythm of the balls faltered once as Kirihara nearly missed one, then again as his exhausted body refused to recover fast enough to let him get the next return. Ignoring the dropped ball, he let it roll away from him as he concentrated on the one remaining, picking up his pace a little to compensate for the loss.

He wasn't going to be able to keep it up much longer, though. His dark gold Rikkaidai uniform shirt was so soaked with sweat it looked brown, and his legs and arms were starting to shake.

Just a little longer, he ordered his failing body desperately. Just a few more rallies, don't give out on me now...

Kamio picked up the stray ball, then his lips spread in a wicked grin. He grabbed his own racquet and served, the ball whipping past Kirihara and ricocheting directly back at the boy, exactly in rhythm with the other ball, so that he could resume his double rally again.

If Akaya hadn't been so utterly exhausted, he'd have been able to pick up the second ball again without a glitch, despite the surprise. As it was, it took his numb brain a moment to recognize the reintroduction of the second ball, and a moment was more than he had to spare.

The ball hit him solidly in the chest and he staggered, dropping his racquet. The other ball whizzed by him, narrowly missing him as he collapsed to his hands and knees on the frozen court. Now that his rhythm was broken, his body was simply refusing to answer his demands on it.

He didn't even have the energy to turn his head to see who'd served the ball back to him, though he had his suspicions. "Nice serve," was all he said, panting hard to try to catch his breath.

His eyes widening, Kamio sprinted over to Kirihara, feeling a distinct sense of guilt. "Are you okay?!" he cried, skidding to a halt next to the other boy. "I didn't mean for you to MISS." Fighting with Kirihara was one thing, but the last thing he intended to do was stoop to Kirihara's level and use tennis as a way to get back at someone or hurt someone.

Yep, that's who I thought, Akaya groaned as he collapsed entirely and rolled over onto his back, green eyes looking up at the redhead through a haze of exhaustion. The way my luck's been going lately, it couldn't have been anyone else. At least he doesn't seem to be trying to start a fight.

The downside to working himself to collapse like this was that when he did stop, his control was very fragile. If Kamio started something, Akaya didn't think he'd be able to stop himself from finishing it, and that would be the last of his chances to play tennis this year.

"'M fine," he muttered, waving off the other boy's concern with an effort. "Take more than that to drop me. I was ready to collapse anyway."

Kamio hesitated for a few moments. Well, the only way I'm going to keep him from taking apart one of the juniors is to try to at least keep him on an even keel. Besides, if I don't give him a chance, who will? I'm the captain now. He reached out, offering Kirihara his hand to help him up. "How long were you at it?"

A little surprised at the gesture, Akaya just blinked at the offered hand for a long moment. Finally he reached out to take it, allowing Kamio to pull him to his feet. He staggered once he was up, but managed to keep his footing somehow.

"I dunno, what time is it?" he asked vaguely, becoming truly aware for the first time that it was fully dark. Small wonder he'd been having trouble seeing the balls; this court wasn't lit, and the only light came from the streetlights some distance away.

"It's almost 9," Kamio told him. He eyed Kirihara for a few moments. "Say...my house is just down the street. Why don't we go there first, and you can warm up before you head home."

"You live just down the street from here?" Akaya started to laugh, a sound that was more irony than anything else. "Doesn't that just figure. I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other, then. I live just around the corner." He shrugged. "I've been out here since I left the school. Took me about fifteen minutes to clear the snow away."

Kamio blinked. "You live near here?" he said blankly. "Since when?" He certainly had had no idea that the other boy lived near here. Surely he'd just moved - there was no way it made sense to go to Rikkaidai if you lived in this neighbourhood.

Besides, he would have thought a family that could afford to send their psychotic son to Rikkaidai would be able to afford to live in a nicer neighbourhood.

"Since the end of October," Akaya replied, his breathing slowing back to something like a normal pace as his body recovered. He shuffled over to the side where he'd left his bag, and picked up the Rikkai jersey he'd dropped on top of it. His long warm-up pants were beneath that, and his school uniform was safely tucked into the racquet bag. "I finished out the term at Rikkai, but I had to bus a long way. It was a pain in the ass."

Nodding, Kamio watched him get ready to go, wondering if he should accompany him home - to make sure he got there OK - or just leave. He thought it telling that Kirihara had taken the time to change into his Rikkaidai jersey before playing, though he wasn't sure exactly what it meant. "So...you really transferred, huh?" he asked lamely.

"Yeah, you're stuck with me for the duration," Akaya agreed with a trace of his usual smirk. It was all he had the energy for at the moment.

He considered what was probably waiting for him at home, and sighed. Well, there was one alternative... "Is the offer of a place to warm up still open, or were you just being polite?" he asked. He hated himself for being such a coward, but even Kamio's company was preferable to the strain that was his family now.

Kamio blinked. Given that Kirihara's house was as close as his own, he hadn't expected that they would go back to his place at all. "...It's still open," he said slowly. He jerked his head in the direction of his house. "Come on, it's this way."

Tucking his racquet into the bag, Akaya fell into step beside Kamio, though his feet dragged noticeably. Not from reluctance, just from the fact that his body was refusing to lift them any further than that.

He knew Kamio was probably wondering why the hell he didn't just go home, but he wasn't about to volunteer the information unless asked. And maybe not even then. Kamio might be his captain now, but Akaya wasn't minded to pour his troubles out to the redhead.

"Are there any better courts around here?" he asked, hoping to steer the conversation onto neutral ground. "This one kinda sucks. The ground's uneven, so the balls don't bounce right."

"Well, the one at school is better," Kamio offered. "And there's another one, off that way." He waved in the general direction of Seigaku, to the court where he and Shinji often played. "That one is really good, if you don't mind the other idiots who try to play there. And half the time you run into Seigaku students."

"Yeah, but they make you play doubles there, don't they?" Akaya made a face at the very thought. Yukimura had once ordered a team doubles tournament, on the theory that breaking up the standard pairs and forcing them to work with others would help them, and that learning to work with someone else would be good for the singles players.

Perhaps the only thing less intelligent than forcing Akaya to play doubles had turned out to be forcing him to play doubles with Niou. That was just asking for trouble, really. Yukimura had quickly ended the exercise, and after pressure from the entire team, had promised never to make Akaya play doubles again.

A faint smile played over his lips at the memory. It had been a disaster, but in hindsight it was funny as hell. One of those stories that would go down in the legends of Rikkaidai's tennis club. "Can you honestly see ME playing doubles?" he asked curiously. "If you thought Sanada and Atobe were bad, you ain't seen nothing."

Kamio snorted with laughter. "There's no way you're playing doubles," he agreed. "There's that one, but that's not the only good tennis court in the area. There's another one, closer to Seigaku, where you can play singles." He cocked his head at Akaya. "You actually tried to play doubles?"

"Yukimura-buchou's idea of team building, back when I was still new to the Regulars," Akaya admitted, grinning wearily in response to Kamio's laughter, even if it was at his own expense. It still hurt to think about what he'd lost in leaving Rikkai, but it wasn't like he'd seen much of Yukimura and the other seniors lately anyway. "I think he figured Niou was experienced enough at doubles to be able to keep me under control, but he forgot to account for my stubbornness and Niou's love of chaos."

"I don't think I want to know the details," Kamio said, with a rather exaggerated shudder. It suddenly occurred to him that he was smiling and laughing with Kirihara and he pursed his lips, frowning and falling silent.

"You sure?" Wrapped up in his exhaustion and the laughter for a moment, Akaya forgot he wasn't with one of his teammates and teased Kamio the way he would have one of them. "After all, it involves what is probably my most humiliating defeat on the courts, possibly topped only by that damn match with Fuji. And the only other time I've ever been set on my ass by a tennis ball." As he laughed, for a moment his face was open and his eyes alight in a way people outside of the Rikkai tennis team rarely saw.

Kamio looked up at him, a little startled at the genuine humour in Kirihara's face. Maybe...that asshole gimmick isn't as real as he pretends it is, he thought in surprise. He smiled hesitantly. "Maybe I do want to know the details. It sounds pretty funny."

Turning to him, Akaya was surprised to realize the monster inside of him was being quiet for once. Apparantly in this mood, Kamio wasn't registering as a threat. Or maybe he finally had managed to work himself hard enough to quiet the beast. Either way, he savoured the rare silence in his mind.

"On second thought, maybe I don't want you to know the details," he said, giving Kamio a mock-suspicious look. "You'll just use it for blackmail later, probably. If you really want to know, I'm sure Yanagi would be able to recount it all with that photographic memory of his." He knew he was ruining his image as a tough-guy wise-ass, but at the moment he didn't care.

Despite still feeling a bit unsettled, Kamio found himself grinning. "What do I need more blackmail material for?" he asked lightly, sticking his hands underneath his armpits. Damn it was cold! Luckily, they were almost to his house.

Seeing Kamio stick his hands under his arms like that made Akaya realize how cold it really was, and he started to shiver as he registered the sweat that had frozen on his skin. His warm-up jacket and track pants weren't meant for Tokyo winters.

"Right now, you don't have a damn thing to blackmail me with," he informed the redhead. "Coerce me, yeah sure. But not blackmail."

"Same difference," Kamio said, shooting Kirihara a look. "There's only one thing I want from you, and I have it. And if you fuck up, I can do something about it. Unlike some people, I don't look for new ways to hurt people." He turned and stamped up the walk towards his house.

Taken aback by the abrupt change of mood, Akaya was caught off guard. He wasn't prepared for the sudden aggression from Kamio, or the answering rise of black violence within himself. *He will stand in our way, destroy him!* the demon shrieked at him, and he drew in a sharp breath as he struggled for control.

His voice came out in a half-feral growl when he did manage to speak. "You planning to throw that in my face at every opportunity? Yeah, you hold my tennis career in your hands. Bully for you. How often are you planning to torment me with the fact?" His eyes flashed dangerously, but he had barely enough control to keep them from bleeding to red around the iris.

Kamio hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. He hated to admit it, but he actually felt bad now. Even though he was still upset that Kirihara had accused him of wanting to blackmail him. He turned to look at Kirihara. "Hey," he said awkwardly. "It's the first day. Give me a chance to get used to this."

Akaya was shaking, as much from desperately restrained anger as from cold. The look he gave Kamio was hard and unyielding, but his former teammates would have recognized the flash of desperation deep within the angry green. Unfortunately for both of them, he doubted Kamio was that perceptive, so he was going to have to control this on his own.

Forcing himself to breathe evenly, he shifted his glare down to the snow-dusted sidewalk, half surprised the heavy flakes didn't begin to melt.

"Look," he ground out, "If you really still hate me that much, just say so now and I'll avoid you outside of tennis. It'll be better for both of us." And safer for you, he added silently. "Don't play the hot and cold game with me, you won't like the results."

Kamio chewed on his lower lip, his own gaze dropping to study the dusting of snow on the front stoop. "I don't hate you that much, Kirihara," he said. "I was mad that you were accusing me of trying to blackmail you. I wasn't trying to be hot and cold, all right? I'm sorry that I pissed you off, and I wasn't trying to rub anything in your face." He looked up, studying Kirihara closely. "Okay?"

The monster was still screaming for blood in the back of his head, but with no further aggression from Kamio Akaya was able to wrestle it back under control. He stood there in the snow, shivering and trying not to be too obvious about panting for breath.

"Yeah, whatever," he finally muttered, passing a weary hand over his face. "I was just teasing you, okay? I was being NICE. My version of nice, anyway."

"Sorry," Kamio mumbled again. "I'll try to realize that next time. I guess I'm not used to you being nice to me." He offered Kirihara a small smile, hoping he wasn't making a terrible mistake as he added, "Come on, let's get inside. It's freezing out here." He opened the door, stepping inside and stamping his shoes on the mat before bending to take them off.

"In case you hadn't noticed, you're the one with a problem with me, not the other way around," Akaya noted wryly as he warily approached the open door. The warmth from beyond convinced him to move a little faster, and he sighed softly in relief as the door closed behind him and he was wrapped in warmth. "I played up to you, sure, but I never actively went after you." He couldn't resist grinning slyly and adding, "It's just that you're so damn cute when you're flustered or really pissed off."

Kamio reddened instantly, cursing under his breath. "Listen," he blustered. "You're not nice to anyone, in my experience. I know you don't have a problem with me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to expect it when you're suddenly being nice."

"What's all the shouting down there?" his mother called down irritably and he froze.

"Nothing!" he called back up, quickly stepping up into the front hall. "Just talking to my friend, mom. We'll be quieter!" His mother retreated from the top of the stairs with a sleepy mutter. "Sorry," he hissed to Kirihara. "She's been sick the last few days."

Nodding, Akaya modulated his voice to be quieter, though that just ended up with him sounding like he was using what Marui had laughingly dubbed his 'bedroom murmur' voice because it made the fangirls swoon at him. "Look, I make a point not to antagonize my teammates any more than necessary... 'necessary' being partly defined by how often they set themselves up to be teased," he admitted with a grin. "As of today, you fall into that category."

With a sigh, he added, "Look, I know I was being an ass in the office. This isn't easy for me either."

Kamio regarded him for a few moments, but he couldn't really think of much to say to that. Besides, talking in the hallway would only get him in trouble again. "Come on," he whispered, moving quickly towards the kitchen. "I'll make you some hot tea and we can go to my room and talk, okay?"

Following him, Akaya made an effort to be as quiet as he could. He'd gotten quite a bit of practice at it lately, as he did his best to avoid being dragged into the fights between his parents. He left his bag by the door, figuring he could pick it up on his way out.

He felt like he was treading a fragile tightrope, and he knew this odd camraderie between him and Kamio was likely to fall to pieces sooner rather than later. Akaya just couldn't resist being a sarcastic asshole most of the time, it was his way of defending himself. Between that and Kamio's temper, they were practically doomed to enmity.

But for the moment, he wanted to hang on to that feeling he'd had before Kamio had blown up at him - the feeling of companionship, of being with a teammate.

Kamio relaxed a little when he entered the kitchen, knowing that their voices wouldn't carry quite as much and disturb his mother from there. He put the kettle on to boil and pulled out two tea cups and the tea, busying himself with the simple task of making the hot drink while he tried to get used to the fact that Kirihara was now his teammate. It still didn't quite compute.

"You know," he said with a soft chuckle that was just a little forced. "Shinji and I were half convinced this whole thing was just a prank. That you found a uniform somewhere and were just pretending."

Akaya's green eyes were unusually troubled for the instant Kamio could see them as he turned to offer the tea to the dark-haired boy. Then Akaya had shifted so Kamio wouldn't be able to see his expression quite as easily, and gave a forced chuckle of his own.

"It would be a hell of a prank, I'll admit it... the look on your face when you opened the door to find me on the other side of it was pretty funny," Akaya admitted lightly. "That kind of prank is more Niou's purview than mine, though. I don't have the patience to plan something like that."

"I dunno, I heard you showed up at Seigaku once," Kamio said with a small smile as he picked up his own cup. "Though you didn't try to convince them that you were on their team. I didn't really think you'd done that, anyway, it just seemed like the only thing that made sense." He jerked his head to signal Kirihara to follow him, his voice dropping to a whisper as he moved out of the kitchen again and towards the stairs.

Waiting to reply until they were safely in Kamio's room with the door shut behind them, Akaya took a moment to look around. The room wasn't terribly different from his own, aside from the cds scattered everywhere and the music posters mixed in with the tennis ones. Kamio had a real bed where Akaya only had a futon, but that was mostly because the furniture had gone the same way as the rest of the Kirihara family possessions.

"I only ended up at Seigaku that one time because I fell asleep on the bus and that was the end of the line," he admitted sheepishly. "It was fun razzing them, though. They're so damn easy to provoke, some of them."

"Kinda like me?" Kamio said, rolling his eyes. "Why do you like making people dislike you, anyway? Isn't it easier to just get along with people most of the time?" He sat down on his bed, sipping his tea cautiously.

For a long moment, Akaya debated giving one of his trademark flippant remarks. That would piss Kamio off, though, and probably end this odd truce they had going. Instead, he decided to give his new captain some of the truth, and just pass it off as one of his usual quips.

"Nah," he asserted, wicked smirk firmly in place although it didn't echo in his eyes like it usually did. "This way most people are intimidated by me, it keeps them off my back." And kept most of them from provoking him in turn, which was what he really wanted. Until Rikkaidai and Yukimura's belief in him, Akaya hadn't had friends, hadn't known what he was missing by being such a smart-ass and keeping people at arm's length. Now that he did know, he found himself fiercely missing the easy companionship that had existed among his teammates.

"Well, not everyone's intimidated by you," Kamio said, sticking out his chin stubbornly. He sipped at his tea, sighing softly. He didn't want to fight with Kirihara, but he found it so difficult not to rise to the bait. He decided to try to move the subject on to something else. "So I guess you're still not going to tell me why you suddenly decided to come 'slumming', huh?"

"Obviously, I decided I enjoyed your company so much I couldn't stand another moment without it," Akaya drawled, though his eyes flashed with irritation. "I know you've got a brain, Kamio, use it. Why do you think I'd drop out of one of the best private schools in the city to attend a public school like Fudoumine?"

Kamio looked down at his tea. There really were only two explanations he could think of, but he was a little afraid of being wrong and insulting Kirihara as a result. But there really wasn't any choice at this point. If he didn't say anything, Kirihara would think he was stupid. "Either you got kicked out," he said. "And none of the other private schools would take you, or your family ran out of money for some reason." He looked up through his bangs, watching to see what effect his words had on the other boy.

"Pin-pon," Akaya chanted, and cocked his hand like a fired gun at Kamio. He was doing his best to hide his very real distress behind flippancy, but there was a strain in his voice that belied his attempts. "I'll leave it to you to decide which theory you favour. I can't give away all my secrets, after all."

Kamio eyed him closely as he finished off his tea. "I'm betting on the second," he said daringly. "If you were kicked out, your family wouldn't move into a cheaper house in a totally different neighbourhood, even if there weren't any public schools near your old place."

Hiding a wince at the redhead's unusual insight, Akaya just shrugged at him. "What do you know, you really do have a brain," he replied lightly. "Yeah, my dad's got a little gambling problem, it turns out. So now you know my family's big, dark secret."

With difficulty, Kamio resisted the urge to get upset at Kirihara for insulting his intelligence again. He knew, somewhere dimly in the back of his mind, that the other boy was just trying to distract him. "That sucks," he said awkwardly, instead.

Pausing at the genuine - if somewhat graceless - sympathy in the other's voice, Akaya finally settled for a careless shrug. "That's life. I got over raging about the unfairness of it a month ago. Now I'm just trying to deal." And praying you don't change your mind about letting me play, he added silently.

Kamio nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. He studied his tea cup for a few moments longer, then lifted his head, smiling a little. "Hey, maybe you'll find that Fudoumine isn't as bad as you think. I mean, we're a good group. And they'll get used to you."

Akaya lifted a sardonic eyebrow at him. "Right. I'm sure they're all perfectly willing to forgive and forget what I did to Tachibana last year. I didn't come here expecting to be accepted... but there wasn't anywhere else I could go where I'd have even a hope in hell of finding someone worth playing against."

In fact it had been Yukimura's gentle suggestion, when Akaya had gone to his former captain in tears and desperation, that had led to him begging and blackmailing his parents into moving to an area close enough for him to attend Fudoumine. "Old grudges and hatreds aside, Akaya," Yukimura had said in that soft but commanding voice of his, "they're too devoted to tennis to pass up a chance to play someone as good as you for long. It may be to prove a point, or get revenge on you, but they will play you. Anywhere else, and you'll dry up and go to waste."

"The fact is," Kamio said, shrugging. "Tachibana's okay. The worst one for holding grudges is me, and so long as you stay in line, I'll be backing you. They'll be wary at first, like Shinji, but they don't want to pound your face in anymore."

Playing with his tea for a moment gave Akaya a chance to absorb that, and he hid his sigh of relief by taking a sip of the drink. Kamio really was going to let him play. So there, he thought at the beast inside him. Violence isn't the only solution, or even the best one. The demon within him grumbled quietly, but had no purchase on Akaya's self control in a peaceful situation like this.

"Well, I hope you're all prepared to have your asses handed to you, then," he replied, emerging from behind the teacup with his customary smirk firmly in place.

Kamio glanced up at him with a smirk, glad that Kirihara seemed to be relaxing. "We've been practicing," he said. "Don't think it'll be that easy."

"You think you're the only ones who've been practicing?" Akaya snorted, and surprised himself with a yawn immediately afterwards. The hot tea had warmed and relaxed him, and his body was letting him know in no uncertain terms how tired it was. "Bring it on, rhythm boy. I'll take you all on and come out on top."

"We'll just have to see about that," Kamio retorted, setting his own empty cup down. He stretched out on his bed with a yawn of his own, grinning, with his head propped up on his hand.

Leaning against the wall at the foot of the bed, angled so he could still see the redhead's face, Akaya grinned at the yawn. "What, am I keeping you up past your bedtime?" he couldn't resist teasing. He then promptly spoiled his own efforts by yawning again himself, and he scowled. "Damn it!"

Kamio couldn't help it - he burst out laughing. "What was that you said?" he asked, grinning widely. He pushed himself up to sit again. "I guess you're pretty tired. You feeling any warmer?"

Biting his lip, Akaya was forced to nod. He was warmer, and Kamio was obviously tired, which meant it was past time for him to go home. Before he wore out his welcome and this fragile truce fell apart.

Well, maybe his parents would have gone to sleep by now. Failing that, it wouldn't be the first time he snuck in the window of his bedroom to bypass their notice. "Thanks for the tea," he said carelessly, as he slid off the bed and stretched. "I'll see you tomorrow at school, I guess."

Kamio felt more than a twinge of regret, though he tried to deny it. Before he could take back the words, however, he blurted. "If you don't want to go home--" He cut himself off. Why wouldn't Kirihara want to go home?

It was that single flash of teeth, as Kirihara bit his lip. That moment of... something. Nervousness? Reluctance? Kamio thought there was more to this than the other boy was telling.

But the words had the opposite effect intended, as Akaya abruptly realized that he was being far too obvious about his reluctance. Never one to show weakness in front of others if he could avoid it, he pulled on the practiced mask of indifferent amusement and smirked down at the redhead.

"Much as I enjoy your utterly entrancing company, Kamio, I must tear myself away some time." The sharp bite of protective sarcasm was back in his voice, and he sounded more like his 'normal' self than Kamio had heard since he'd left the tennis office. "Wouldn't want me to end up falling for your irresistable charms, now would we?"

Kamio reddened. This time, the change was so abrupt, that he couldn't help but react with anger before he thought. "Well you don't have to be a jerk about it," he growled. "Go if you want. What the fuck do I care?"

He'd been expecting Kamio's anger this time, had in fact been deliberately provoking it as a means of putting distance between them. That made it easier for Akaya to ignore the rumblings of his demon as a response, because he wasn't off guard.

"Obviously you don't," Akaya clutched dramatically at his chest. "I'm hurt, Kamio, absolutely wounded that you think so little of my actions." Laughing softly, the laugh that had nothing to do with mirth, he made his way towards the door. "Don't worry about showing me out, I can find my own way."

Well fuck you, too. See if I invite you into my house again! Kamio growled to himself, jumping to his feet. "Good night, Kirihara," he snarled. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.

"See you around, Kamio," Akaya waved in farewell. "Try not to spend too much time being pissed off at me. It's not healthy to be so obsessed."

He laughed again as he left the room, though it faded quickly. He told himself it was because he didn't want to wake the redhead's mother again, but there was an empty ache in his chest.

It's better this way, he reminded himself harshly. If you don't let them close, they can't hurt you. And hopefully, you won't hurt them.

Throwing himself down on the bed, Kamio gave his pillow a good beating, then rolled onto his back with a sigh. He got me good that time, he thought irritably. I have GOT to learn to tell when he's being an asshole because he's an asshole, and when he's being an asshole because he wants me to get upset and forget about what I was doing.

Sighing, he got up and stripped out of his clothes, switching off the lights and crawling into bed. Ah well, it was the first night. There would be lots of time to figure out how to deal with Kirihara before the tennis season started.

|Prologue| |Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5| |Part 6| |Part 7| |Part 8| |Part 9| |Part 10| |Part 11|

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