Part 5

When Akaya stepped out of the outhouse and jogged over to the courts, the competitive drive was clear in his eyes and expression. He caught Kamio's eye and held up one hand with all fingers extended, asking for five minutes to warm up. Then he grabbed a couple of balls and went to go play against the practice wall again, just as he had been the night before.

Kamio just nodded, continuing to warm up himself. He grabbed his own racquet and started hitting two balls against the wall, matching Kirihara in rhythm as he continued to absorb himself in the beat of the music. He slowly increased in speed, the balls blurring and going so fast that only the finely tuned eyes of a tennis player like he or Kirihara could see them.

Akaya didn't try to match Kamio's increasing speed, holding steady to his own familiar place. Making the attempt would have just ended with him looking like an idiot; precise shots and being able to turn his opponents weaknesses against them were his specialty, not speed and agility.

Finally he was sweating, his muscles moving easily under the strain of what he was asking of them, and he caught both of his balls in his hand. "I'm ready if you are," he called, hoping Kamio could hear him over the music. He turned and stripped off the jacket and pants, warm enough from exertion now to be comfortable in the shorts and jersey.

Kamio continued for a few moments, the music pounding in his ears, before he noticed that Kirihara wasn’t next to him anymore. He must be done, he thought, reaching out to catch the balls and pulling the headphones from his ear. He was sweating, but his breathing was still calm. “You ready?” he asked, pulling his mp3 player off and dropping it into his bag.

"If you are," Akaya agreed, grinning. He'd been doing a couple of racquet excercises to keep from cooling down while waiting for Kamio to come out of his oblivious trance. He set the head of his racquet against the court, poised to twist it. "Smooth or rough?"

"Rough," Kamio said with an anticipatory grin. The rhythm was pounding through him and he felt like singing. His feet were itching to follow that beat around the tennis court. He didn't even feel the cold.

Spinning the racquet with an easy twist of his wrist, Akaya watched as it fell over and clattered to the ground. The English 'K' on the end was upside down and backwards.

"Your choice," he informed Kamio unnecessarily. Kamio was hyper, firmly in that 'zone' every good player was familiar with, where everything was ready and you were just waiting for the challenge to hit you. Akaya was sliding into that mental space as well, though since he frankly didn't consider Kamio to be a truly challenging opponent, it wasn't as strong for him. "Serve or receive?"

"I'll serve," Kamio said, choosing a side of the court to start on. The sun was hidden behind an iron grey sky, so sunlight wasn't going to be a problem. The wind was picking up, but both of them were good enough to be able to compensate for that. Frankly, the biggest challenge here, besides each other, was the uneven ground of the court.

Kamio bounced the ball a few times, then tossed and struck, sending the ball deep into the service area of Kirihara's side of the court.

It was a good game, better even than Akaya had hoped for. Kamio was fast, and no matter where Akaya returned the ball to the redhead was already there waiting. Akaya finally had to resort to his specialty shots to take the games, and even then Kamio continued to score points on him.

As always, challenge brought out the best in him... and the worst. His inner demon stirred, calling for blood, wanting him to destroy Kamio utterly. By the time the score was five games to two in his favour, he was sweating hard and it wasn't entirely from running around.

This was the first challenging game he'd played since he'd run out of the drugs that helped him control himself, he realized with a chill of fear. After hearing from Sanada about the destructive path Akaya was taking, Yukimura had called him in and gently but firmly insisted that Akaya get professional help.

That was just before the invitational camp. To his surprise, the drugs the doctors had given him had helped, forcing his awareness of the demons far enough back that he could ignore them with strong effort. And the effort it took to win over them was less and less with time.

But the drugs were expensive, and his family just didn't have the money any more. He'd run out just at the start of the winter break. Small wonder he'd been having trouble controlling himself, he realized, and the chill became an outright shiver.

Time to end this, before I get carried away, he decided. It was his serve, and he slammed the ball so hard he was surprised it didn't break his strings.

Kamio's eyes widened a bit when he saw the sudden aggressiveness that seemed to have taken Kirihara. He leapt for the ball and slammed it back, his arm jarring from the blow. The ball wobbled a bit, as he'd returned it a bit hastily, but it went to the far corner of the court anyway, landing right on the line.

He'd been enjoying himself immensely, despite the fact that he was losing badly. 5-2 was a score he could be proud of against Kirihara Akaya, and more importantly, the other boy had also seemed to be having a great time.

Not now, though. Suddenly, he was playing more like the final match at the Nationals, than a friendly court game after school. But Kamio was too hard-pressed during the rally to say anything. Hopefully, Kirihara would calm down. After all, he was winning!

Despite Kamio's best efforts, Akaya didn't let him take a single point in that last game. Which only went to show that he'd been going relatively easy on him before that. Akaya knew Kamio probably thought he was showing off, or rubbing in the fact that he was the better player, but he didn't have a choice.

By the time he took the last point to end the match, he was breathing hard and shaking, and trying his best to hide at least the latter from Kamio. He stood at his end of the court, eyes down, just fighting for control. He couldn't let Kamio know how close he'd come to attacking the redhead like he had Tachibana. Match is over, now go back to the hell you came from! he frantically ordered the hideous masked oni who were skittering around the edges of his vision.

Kamio was breathing hard by the end of the game. Though he'd managed to return some really difficult shots, in the end he hadn't been able to take a single point in the latter part of the game. Frustrated, he shoved his racquet in his bag, jogging his place a little to cool down as he tried to catch his breath. I'm not that bad! he thought angrily, turning to look at Kirihara and wondering what was going on. "Going easy on me, were you?" he called, trying to sound teasing, but it came out sounding resentful.

Akaya had started pacing back and forth down the baseline, swinging his racquet for his own cool down. He was still shaking, as much with fear as with the effort of ignoring the leering faces of the demons around him. You're not real, GO AWAY! he demanded, flinching when they laughed.

"No," he replied shortly to Kamio's question. "I was having fun. I just... got tired, is all, so I decided to end it."

Kamio flushed with shame and anger. "Next time, I'll do better," he snarled. "Sorry that you didn't have to get serious with me until you started getting bored!"

Damn it, Akaya thought in despair. This isn't what I want. I was having fun, I don't want him angry at me again. He drew a deep breath, and forced himself to let it out slowly.

"You pushed me hard enough that I had to go that far to beat you," he ground out, clenching his fists to try to hide the shaking. "Not many people can even do that much. What do you want from me, Kamio? Would you rather I'd driven you that hard from the very beginning, rather than just enjoying the game?"

Kamio hesitated, his anger muting slightly at Kirihara's words. "You didn't get bored?" he asked uncertainly. "I was really a challenge for you?"

"You made me work for it," Akaya told him frankly. "I've never played anyone as fast as you. No, I wasn't bored." Desperate, but certainly not bored! "I just... hit that point where it was enough of a challenge that I really got serious. Where you forget you're just supposed to be having fun and go all out. Doesn't that ever happen to you?"

Kamio thought about that for a moment, mollified by Kirihara's words. He grinned. "Yeah, I guess it does," he said. He shouldered his bags and moved towards Kirihara. "You OK?" he added. "I'm sorry I got pissed off..."

"I'm fine," Akaya answered hastily, moving away slightly so Kamio hopefully wouldn't reach out and do something like pat him on the shoulder. The shaking was controlled enough now not to be visible, but Kamio would feel it if he touched him.

Taking a deep breath, he repeated in a more normal tone of voice, "I'm fine, just a little worked up. Been too damn long since I had a good game." That much at least had come out sincerely.

Kamio beamed. "It was a good game," he agreed. "I don't even really mind losing. I did better than I expected to, anyway." Fully recovered from his burst of anger, he glanced around, beginning to shiver as his sweat-soaked clothes stuck to his skin. "Why don't we go to my place again," he suggested. "It's close, and we can catch a shower and change there."

The offer was so totally unexpected that Akaya was caught off guard. "And I thought I had mood swings," he finally chuckled, the laughter helping to force his demons further away from him. He felt like he could breathe without effort again, and it was a much better feeling.

"I need to do my homework at some point," he said, a little reluctant to part company when Kamio was offering to let him stick around. He didn't really want to go home and do his homework, but he didn't want to fall behind, either. The last thing he needed was his parents getting on his case for his grades dropping lower than they already were.

"We can do homework together if you want," Kamio said with a shrug. "I mean, we have all the same classes, and you probably have to cat--" he stopped, reddening. "Well, actually you're probably away ahead of us, already, since you were at Rikkai."

"Depends on your definition of 'ahead'," Akaya shrugged, and moved towards his bag to put his stuff away. "We - they," he reminded himself, might as well get used to saying it. "They have to follow the same government curriculum y-we do. But there's a lot more expected of u... of them. It's the price you pay for not having to take the university entrance exams, you have to work twice as hard just to..."

A horrified look crossed his face, and he broke off in mid-sentence. "Oh my gods, I'm going to have to take the high school entrance exams, aren't I?" he asked Kamio, aghast. "Fudoumine's not a feeder school. Shit, I haven't taken an entrance exam since I was four years old!"

Kamio's jaw dropped. "Since you were four?" he exclaimed. "Man...you must be so smart." He sighed. "Well, I wouldn't worry about it that much. We have lots of time before we really have to start cramming for the highschool entrance exams. And you're used to working to a much higher standard. I'm sure it'll be a cinch for you."

Shaking his head, Akaya gave him a panicked look. "My grades suck, Kamio! I never did more than I needed to not to drop below the minimum standard and get kicked out. One of the best things about Rikkai was that I didn't have to worry about studying so I could concentrate on tennis! I have no idea how to study for an entrance exam!"

"Woah, hold on," Kamio raised his hands, trying helplessly to calm Kirihara down. "Listen, it's going to be OK. Shinji's really smart, and he'll help you learn how to study. He gets me through all of my exams, and he'll help you, too."

"But I'm actually going to have to study!" Akaya protested, aghast. "How'm I supposed to practice if I have to spend every night studying? Geez, no wonder schools like Hyoutei and Rikkai always have the best teams... it's not just that we attract better people, it's also that we have more time to devote to non-academic stuff!"

Kamio gave him an irritated look that clearly said 'suck it up'. "We make the time and get by," he said. "Come on, Kirihara, it's FREEZING out here, and I want a shower." He jerked his head towards home. "You can panic about it when we're warm."

It was a measure of Akaya's distress that he followed Kamio meekly. His horror at the realization had one good effect, though; it pushed his awareness of the monsters around him very firmly to the back of his mind. Hungry oni be damned, he was going to have to write exams! That was a hell of a lot scarier!

"Remind me to kill my dad," he said plaintively as he followed in Kamio's wake down the sidewalk. "Like, really. I might even be able to get my mom to help. I don't believe this."

"So it was your dad's screwup, huh?" Kamio asked curiously. "You said he had a gambling problem? I'd kill him, too." Kamio couldn't imagine being as rich as Kirihara must have been, and especially couldn't imagine suddenly losing it all like that. He really honestly felt bad for what the other boy was going through.

"My mom and I had no clue anything was wrong until cheques started bouncing and the credit cards stopped working," Akaya replied, more than a little bitterness in his tone. Somehow today, it didn't seem quite as if talking about it would be so utterly shaming. Maybe it was the way Kamio seemed to be awkwardly trying to accept him as a friend.

"He told us he was away on business trips. Next thing we knew they were coming to take our house away and pretty much everything in it as well." He squeezed the handle of his racquet bag possessively. "Sometimes I think the only reason I've even still got my racquet is that I had it with me at the time, and I was at tennis practice, so they couldn't get it."

Kamio winced. "Sorry to say this, but your father is an asshole," he said sympathetically. "I hope he can turn it around or something. That really sucks, Kirihara..."

"Oh, he was an asshole long before the money problems started," Akaya assured him dryly, finally starting to recover his composure. "I doubt that'll change any time soon. We'll see about the rest of it, though. He declared bankruptcy, so it's not likely the situation will change any time in the near future. I'll live." He shot Kamio a look. "And this better not ever go any further than you. Not even to Ibu."

"I won't tell Shinji, or anyone," Kamio said, shaking his head quickly. "I already told you that. I promise, my lips are sealed." He drew his fingers across his mouth. He'd be annoyed that Kirihara didnt' trust him, if it weren't for how ashamed the other boy obviously was.

"Good," Akaya sighed. "This is embarrassing enough as it is. I didn't even tell anyone at Rikkai why I was really leaving other than Yukimura. Just that my parents said I had to transfer." He laughed ironically. "If you do let me on the team, it'll be a hell of a shock for them when I turn up with Fudoumine. They probably expected me to go to Hyoutei or maybe Seigaku."

Kamio laughed. "I can't picture you at Hyoutei or Seigaku any more than I would have been able to picture you at Fudoumine before this." He grinned at Kirihara. "I'm looking forward to the looks on everyone's faces. Our secret weapon of the year!"

A good deal of Akaya's misery slid away at this confirmation that Kamio was already thinking of the next season in terms of him being part of the team. Really it would have been stupid of the redhead to waste the golden opportunity that had been dropped in his lap in the form of Akaya, but people had done stupider things in the name of old grudges.

Suddenly he shivered, realizing he'd not even put his pants and jacket on again before following Kamio out of the park in a daze. "Shit, it's cold! Are we almost there?"

"Almost," Kamio said, gesturing ahead. "Just around that corner. You just noticed?" he added with incredulity. "I've been shivering since we stopped playing."

"I was too worked up," Akaya admitted, laughing softly. "First about the game, and then about the exams." He hesitated, then added, "Can we play again sometime?" It was taking a risk, but maybe if he repeatedly beat the demons down they'd get easier to ignore even without the drugs. And he'd missed playing someone who could make him work for it so much. "It'll probably always end like tonight, with me getting too far into it and coming down hard on you, but it'd be worth it for the first five or seven games, right?"

Kamio nodded without hesitation. "If I keep playing you, I'll only get better," he said with a grin. "And I liked playing tonight." The grin faltered a little and he gave Akaya a curious look. "What do you mean about getting too far into it?" he asked. "I mean, your eyes didn't--" He made a vague gesture.

Akaya couldn't stop the shudder that hit him at the reminder of the monster he had been, could still become. "No. Not like that. Kamio..." Despite the cold, he stopped on the sidewalk and caught at Kamio's arm, stopping him as well. "If that ever does happen when you're playing me, I want you to promise you'll put down your racquet and walk away." He knew he didn't need to get Kamio to promise to stop the match if it was someone else he was playing. The redhead had already made his intentions to protect his players clear.

Kamio's eyes widened a little at the other boy's seriousness. Could he make such a promise? He knew how dangerous Akaya was when he was in that mode, but if he wanted to hurt Kamio, why would he make him make this promise? Couldn't he just decide not to hurt Kamio, rather than humiliating him by making him forfit? "I...don't understand," he said quietly, beginning to shiver again. "Why would you?"

"Just promise me!" Akaya insisted, his green eyes desperate. "Or so help me, I'll never play you again. If my eyes go red, you get the hell out of there." He shook his head, agitated but unwilling to explain any more than that. "Promise me," he begged quietly.

His eyes widening even more, Kamio nodded hesitantly. "Okay, okay, if your eyes go red, I'll stop the game." The idea made his stomach lurch, but Kirihara looked almost scared. He raised a hand and covered Kirihara's hand where it clasped his arm. "I promise."

With a slightly unsteady sigh of relief, Akaya nodded and released him, turning to walk down the sidewalk. "If it makes you feel better, I made everyone at Rikkai give me the same promise," he told Kamio with a forced lightness to his tone, as if he were trying to make a joke out of it. "Even Sanada."

Kamio followed him, watching him closely out of the corner of his eye. "Why?" he asked finally. "Can't you decide whether you want to hurt someone or not? Why is it up to us?"

"It's not that it's up to you," Akaya replied grimly, eyes fixed on the sidewalk ahead. For once it wasn't because he was avoiding looking at the oni, but rather because he didn't want Kamio to see the fear and guilt in his expression. "If it happens, trust me, it's my responsibility and nobody elses. I'm just warning you... because if it gets to the point where my eyes turn, then I already have decided to hurt you."

Kamio eyed him. "I...don't really get it," he admitted softly, turning to lead the way up his walk. "But if that's the way it is, I guess I just hope it never comes to that, but I don't want you to hurt me any more than I want you to hurt one of my teammates."

"Good," Akaya said shortly, following him. Hopefully Kamio would get the hint that he didn't really want to talk about it. Telling him about his father's gambling problem was one thing; telling him about Akaya's own psychoses was another thing entirely.

Kamio DID get the hint. The fact that they were at his door wasn't the only reason he didn't push Kirihara for more information. He unlocked his door and opened it, looking up as he felt something wet touch his cheek. "It's starting to snow," he observed as he pulled the door open and went inside, bending to untie his shoes.

"Yeah," Akaya agreed, his tone softening as he stood on the doorstep for a moment and looked up at the big fat flakes falling out of the dark sky. After a second he shook his head and followed Kamio inside, closing the door behind him. "Your mom still sick?" he asked, keeping his voice low just in case.

Kamio looked around, his lips thinning. "Well, it looks like she was up, but I guess she went to bed early," he said softly. "She gets migraines, that's all." He stepped up into the front hall. "Want some more tea, or a shower? Or both?" he asked with a grin.

"What, at the same time?" Akaya said in mock surprise, raising an eyebrow at Kamio. "That would make for some seriously weak tea, I think."

Kamio clapped a hand over his laughter, his eyes flashing merrily. "Asshole," he said affectionately once he'd gotten ahold of himself. "So which do you want, then? Or in what order?"

"I'll take the tea and then you can go shower, I guess," Akaya shrugged, not really caring. "Then I'll steal the shower. I guess I should just wait in your room, then?"

"Yeah, you might as well," Kamio agreed, moving into the kitchen to make the tea. "I mean, you can wait down here if you want, but my room's more private, and we can talk in normal voices in there."

"Sounds good to me," Akaya nodded, leaning against the kitchen doorway. "I'll start reading over the lessons from today while you shower, so I have some idea of what's going on when you're ready to start studying." It occurred to him that he was really going to have to start paying attention in class, with the prospect of entrance exams now looming over his head. He made a face. Classes were just so boring.

"Okay," Kamio agreed, flashing Kirihara a grin. I can't believe I'm going to be studying with KIRIHARA in my BEDROOM. Can this week get any more surreal? He turned and busied himself with the tea while the water came to a boil.

It didn't take long to get the mugs and kettle up to Kamio's room, and Akaya glanced around thoughtfully as they entered. "Are you the type who actually works at his desk, or do you sprawl over your bed?" he wanted to know. No point in making himself comfortable if he was just going to be kicked out of his spot when Kamio came back from the shower.

"Bed," Kamio said. "There should be enough room, don't you think?" he asked, looking at his bed critically. "At least, if we're sharing a book, and we don't mind rubbing elbows a bit..."

Since he'd been about to offer to take the floor in that case, Akaya was caught with his mouth open as he registered Kamio's comment. He shut it hastily, and gave the redhead a sly smirk. "Works for me," he agreed easily. Given the way Kamio had been blushing and sputtering over the idea that Akaya might 'like' him, this might be entertaining.

Kamio set the mugs and kettle down and gave Kirihara a grin. "Have fun," he said, grabbing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt out of his drawers and then heading out of the room to have his shower.

Dumping his bag on the floor by the bed, Akaya flung himself on to the mattress, squirming into a comfortable position. He was also the type of person to prefer sprawling on a bed over sitting primly at a desk. Fishing out the first textbook that came to hand, he frowned as he saw it was Japanese lit.

Well, might as well get the worst of it out of the way first. With a grimace, he opened the book and started reading.

Kamio didn't linger over his shower, not wanting to leave Kirihara alone TOO long, alone, covered in sweat, and studying.

He stepped out of the shower and dried off quickly, scrubbing his hair madly with his towel to stop it from dripping. He dressed in fresh clothing and dumped everything else in the laundry. His hair was still tousled and damp as he entered his bedroom door. "Shower's yours," he said. "Second door on the right."

Glancing up, Akaya fought off a yawn. "Not sure I can tear myself away from this utterly riveting story," he drawled sarcastically, "but I suppose some sacrifices must be made in the name of sanitation."

He closed the book and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and stretching. Between the lack of a real cool-down, the frigid air on the way here, and the way he'd just sprawled over the bed, he was definitely sore. The hot water would feel damn good.

Digging in his bag, he grabbed his Rikkai jacket and track pants, now the only relatively clean clothes he had in there. Standing, he asked, "Is there a particular towel I should use, or avoid using?"

"Nah, anything's fine, if it's dry," Kamio said with a grin, flopping down on the bed and glancing at Kirihara's progress on the Japanese lit. "Do you want to borrow something of mine? We're not TOO different in size."

"Only if it bothers you that much to have me in my Rikkaidai uniform," Akaya said, snickering slightly. "The track pants and jacket are comfortable enough on their own. But I can see where it might make you uncomfortable."

"It doesn't bother me," Kamio said, blinking and honestly confused as to why Kirihara thought it would. "Other than it being REALLY ugly, that is," he added with a mischievous smirk.

That surprised a bark of laughter out of Akaya before he remembered to lower his voice. "It grows on you," he said loftily. "Especially when you remember that it's the colours of a team that hasn't been out of the Nationals in at least a generation."

"Hey, you were agreeing with me before," Kamio said with a grin. "Remember? You said the Fudoumine jackets were nicer looking. And if Rikkaidai's been to the Nationals that long, they should be able to afford to upgrade their colours." Smirking, he picked up the Japanese lit book and sprawled out on his stomach on the bed, his shirt riding up a little as he bent his knees and kicked them in the air.

"I never said they weren't ugly, just that they grow on you. Kind of like a fungus, actually," Akaya added thoughtfully, then left the room still laughing.

His mirth wasn't entirely due to the banter, either. I wonder if he realizes how tempting he looks like that, Akaya wondered to himself in amusement. Doubtful. Gotta love oblivious virgins.

Kamio was oblivious, tossing his hair out of his face only for it to fall right back into his eyes again, as he worked his way through the passages in the book and wrote down the answers to the questions at the end. Kirihara was right, it was deadly dull.

Careful not to take too much time in the shower since he wasn't certain how much hot water there was - he'd learned the hard way that houses in this area did not tend to have the kind of endless hot water supply he'd been accustomed to - Akaya was back in the room in less than ten minutes. He had his jacket and pants on, and was using one of the towels to rub his hair dry.

Amusingly, his hair was far less unruly when wet, lying flat to his skull and showing it was actually quite long. The quick-drying edges were already starting to curl, though.

"Hey, you actually stayed awake long enough to get to the questions, I'm impressed," he said as he saw where Kamio was. "Share your secret with me, oh wisest of captains?"

"Huh?" Kamio asked, looking up at Kirihara with a bit of a glazed look. He shook himself. "Oh... well I kinda skim the whole thing, then read the questions and look for the answers instead of reading it all word for word," he admitted.

He blushed a little, wondering if Kirihara knew how sexy he looked, all damp and touseled like that. Not that he didn't always look touseled. He shifted over a little, squishing up against the wall to leave room for Kirihara.

"You're still doing better than I am," Akaya informed him in amusement as he flopped down next to Kamio and picked up his own book. They were pressed together from shoulder to knee, and Akaya could feel the rough material of Kamio's jeans through the thin nylon of his track pants. "I hate this subject, I don't know why they make us read all these dusty old stories and try to make sense out of the ridiculous metaphors."

"I dunno," Kamio said tiredly. "It's all so stupid and pointless anyway. When we finish university, are we really going to need to know this stuff?" His cheeks felt hot again and he wondered why he had come up with this brilliant plan in the first place.

"Are we even going to need it in university unless we major in it?" Akaya countered. He saw the flush start on Kamio's cheeks, but carefully kept his smirk to himself. He shifted as if getting comfortable, rubbing his hip against Kamio's. "Which is certainly not something I plan to do, I don't know about you."

Kamio tried to inch away, but there was literally no where to go. Sighing inwardly, he resolved NOT to think about Kirihara's body, or the way they were pressed together. Definitely not. "Well, I sure don't plan to major in anything that needs me to know this stuff," he said firmly. "I mean, even if I did, what would I DO with it? All I could do is teach more Japanese fucking literature." He rolled his eyes.

"It's a vicious cycle," Akaya agreed, sticking his tongue out at the book just to show what he thought of it. "It's kind of like learning latin, only, y'know, less useful." He snickered. "What do you want to major in?" he asked, curious. "Or are you going to try to go straight to the pros after high school?"

"I have NO idea," Kamio said with a sigh. "I dunno if I'm good enough to go to the pros. I mean, I'm no Tachibana. I'm not even anywhere near as good as you." He brushed his damp hair out of his eyes again, futilely. "But I have all of highschool to decide what I want to major in, I guess. Or GET good enough to go pro."

Akaya gave him a wounded and slightly offended look. "Hey! You make it sound like I'm not as good as Tachibana. I did beat him, and I'd have beaten him even if I hadn't gotten... carried away." He grimaced as he realized too late that might not have been such a good thing to mention.

The flush on Kamio's cheeks drained away somewhat, though he didn't actually feel angry. He didn't really want to talk about that any more than Kirihara did, though. "Yeah, I know," he said. "You're right...I just think of Tachibana as being the best, I guess." He smiled faintly. "Even though he doesn't always win."

"He's good," Akaya acknowledged. "One of the best I've ever played. I'd like to play him again sometime, maybe in high school. If he'll let me. And damn it, if I manage to get into a high school with a half decent tennis team that would get me the opportunity in the first place." He thumped his textbook. "Which brings me right back to the fact that I need to be studying, not procrastinating."

"Sorry," Kamio said sincerely, opening his own book again. "I bet Tachibana would play you if you wanted," he added softly, a few minutes later. "Though I think the whole team would want to supervise."

"Not..." Akaya faltered, going a little pale at the thought as his demon stirred. He swallowed. "Not yet. Maybe eventually." No, he would not give himself another shot at the first person he'd ever truly hurt in tennis. Not when his control was this uncertain, not when Tachibana was probably the only person in the school who would push Akaya far enough in a game to need to resort to his old dirty tricks.

Somehow before the next season starts I've got to find a way to get more of my drugs, or I'm going to tear into the first person who pushes me, he thought to himself, hoping he didn't look as sickly at the thought as he felt. He buried himself in the book to try to ignore the feeling.

"Okay," Kamio said comfortably. "Probably better to wait until everyone calms down about you, anyway." He buried himself in his own book, trying not to die of boredom.

Akaya wasn't sure how long they studied for. A lot longer than he was used to spending in the pursuit, that was for damn sure. He had a headache by the time he was yawning and desperate to call it quits for the night.

It hadn't been all bad, though. He tended to fidget when forced into inactivity, particularly if he was doing something he didn't actually like. So he'd entertained himself and taken breaks from studying by directing his fidgeting to a useful purpose. Namely, seeing how far he could push one Kamio Akira before the redhead realized he was being teased on purpose.

He shifted against him, rubbed his feet against Kamio's leg while kicking them 'aimlessly', leaned in close enough that their faces were almost touching when pointing to something in Kamio's book. He was careful to end up backing off almost as often in his 'random' movements, so the other boy wouldn't feel like he was being crowded. It was an interesting diversion, anyway.

By the time Kamio was yawning and about to go crosseyed from studying, he was driven nearly to distraction by Kirihara's 'accidental' touches. Once he caught himself tilting his head and licking his lips in anticipation of a kiss as Akaya leaned his head in to show him something. He'd quickly turned his head away, completely crimson, but he was sure that Akaya had noticed. Why is he DOING this to me? he wailed. I should kiss him next time. THAT would show him! But then...won't he just make fun of me? Fucking hell...

"All right, I can't take this any more," Akaya finally announced abruptly, slamming his history text closed. He squirmed around so he was lying on his back and stretched like a cat, grimacing. "Studying is even harder than I thought it was. I'll take a tough practice over this torture any day."

Kamio took the opportunity to toss his own book aside, dropping his chin into his crossed arms and looking awkwardly at Kirihara. "Well, you'll get used to it," he said unconvincingly. "And we got through a lot, at least." Even if I WAS distracted. "You sure need to stop squirming so much, though," he said, trying for a light tone.

"Sorry, sitting still is not my forte," Akaya replied unrepentantly. Inside he was grinning. Score one for me, he's definitely flustered. "But hey, it coulda been worse. Trust me, you do not ever want to be stuck in a small space - like, say, a bus seat - with Marui."

Kamio chuckled. "I know I squirm a lot," he said, still blushing a little. "But I bet Marui's way worse than I am." Then he realized there was one more consequence of Kirihara's effect on him, other than acute blushing. What am I going to do? he thought in sudden panic. I can't stand up.

"Here's a scary thought for you," Akaya offered, making no move to get up off the bed. He was comfortable where he was, and it gave him a good view of Kamio blushing again. "Marui, Seigaku's Kikumaru, and Hyoutei's Mukahi in a small space together. Must be something about redheads." He eyed Kamio's hair significantly. "Come to think of it..."

Kamio was laughing about the image, horrified at the thought, but Kirihara's crack about his own hair made him blush again. "Hey, I'm not NEARLY as high energy as they are," he protested, though he was still smiling. "I mean, sure, I'm fast and I like music, but I don't BOUNCE."

"Oh yes you do!" Akaya contradicted him gleefully. "I watched you do it tonight! Put a pair of headphones on you, and you're... well," he changed what he was going to say, unable to make it sound believable. "Almost as bad, anyway. And you definitely bounce."

"I do not!" Kamio protested, grinning. "Well, maybe I kinda tap my feet and stuff, but it's NOT the same thing."

"You'd be the least hyper of the four, but you still fit into the group!" Akaya insisted. "But then, your hair is darker than theirs too, so maybe it's a direct correlation." He snickered. "I could make a science project out of it."

Kamio rolled his eyes. "Well while we're on the subject of hair," he said, squirming upwards a bit so his head was level with Kirihara's and he didn't need to crane his neck - since there was no way he was sitting up right now. "What's with curly hair, anyway? You and that Mizuki guy from St. Rudolph."

"I think his is just 'cause he's always twirling it," Akaya snickered. "I mean seriously, between that and his wardrobe, could he be any more blatant?" He tugged at a lock of his own hair, now mostly dry and as wild as ever. "I came by mine same way as my green eyes. Gaijin blood." He said it matter-of-factly. Many Japanese with gaijin blood did their best to hide it, feeling ashamed, but with bright green eyes there'd never really been much he could do to keep people from knowing.

"Really?" Kamio asked, blinking. "One of your parents is a gaijin?" he asked, curious rather than repelled. He was very, very curious about Kirihara's parents, truth be told. What kind of people were they? Were they really normal and he was just the oddball, or was it something they'd done that had produced Kirihara Akaya?

"Nah, they're both half-breeds, so I am too," Akaya replied in amusement. He was used to questions about his parentage - though they often came more in the form of aspersions on his mother and the circumstances of his birth. "Two war bastards, you know how it is." He snorted. "Probably the only thing they have in common any more."

"...Oh," Kamio said. He was still curious, but he was starting to think it was probably the latter. Kirihara sure didn't seem to have much love for his parents. "I guess they don't get along that well," he said lamely. "I...know how that is," he added.

"They got along a lot better when my dad was always gone and my mom got to spend all his money," Akaya said cynically. "Now, not so much. My sister and I are taking bets on the date of the divorce." He'd noticed that there had been no sign of Kamio's father, but he hadn't wanted to push at what might be a sore point.

"You have a sister?" Kamio asked curiously. "What's she like?" He wasn't all that excited to give Kirihara details about his own homelife, either. It was much more interesting to ask about Kirihara's, though he was a little wary about pushing too hard. He didn't want the other boy to leave on bad terms again.

At least the time they spent talking was more time to allow his raging hardon to fade.

"Bitter," was Akaya's prompt answer, accompanied by a snort. "Very, very bitter. She was halfway through Rikkai Daigaku when the money vanished. Now she has to work full time just to scrape up enough to pay rent and be able to eat. Other than that, she's fairly normal. Nothing like me, if that's what you're asking."

So she's a lot older than Akaya, too, Kamio thought, nodding. "I wasn't really asking that," he said, offering Kirihara a hesitant smile. "I just wondered, that's all. I always thought you were probably an only child, for some reason."

"Most people do, oddly," Akaya agreed, raising an eyebrow. "Not like my sister and I ever had much to do with each other, too much of an age gap. I always pictured you having half a dozen siblings, I have to admit."

Kamio averted his gaze and shrugged. "Well, I guess my parents didn't stay together long enough," he said quietly. "And my mother...you know." He reddened and ran a hand through his hair. "Anyway, it doesn't matter."

Now, that was interesting. The only thing Akaya knew about Kamio's mother was that she apparently suffered migraines... and while headaches were the standby of women everywhere who didn't want to have sex, they didn't generally really prevent people from having more kids if they wanted them.

"Be grateful, siblings are a pain," he told Kamio wryly. "And that whole 'baby of the family gets it easy'? Bullshit."

"I guess," Kamio said, with a rather thin smile. "Still, it'd be kinda nice to have a couple of them, I think. So long as they're all younger than I am, so I can pick on them, instead of them picking on me."

"Heh." Akaya yawned, and shifted so his arms were crossed behind his head. "If there's one thing I've noticed, it's that every only child wishes they had siblings, and everyone with siblings wishes they were an only child. Older kids wish they were the youngest, youngest kids wish they were the oldest, and nobody wants to be the middle. Y'know, I don't think there IS a winning side to this."

Kamio snickered. "The grass is greener, huh?" he asked, starting to roll onto his side to get more comfortable before suddenly remembering WHY he wasn't moving and squirming back onto his front again. Damnit! Why can't I calm down?

"I think it kinda just sucks equally for different reasons no matter what you are, but everyone figures somebody's got to have it best, and it sure as hell ain't them," Akaya snickered. He'd noticed Kamio's odd antics, and it hadn't taken much to figure out what was causing them.

"Yeah, probably. And maybe someone DOES have it best, but they don't know it," Kamio said, grinning up at Kirihara. As the other boy hadn't said anything, he was pretty sure his movement hadn't been noticed.

Yawning again, Akaya shifted so he was lying on his side facing Kamio, his head pillowed on one arm. His eyes were half-lidded, making him look much less dangerous than usual. "Thanks for playing me, and letting me study with you," he said, not teasing at all for once. "This wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it might be."

At the genuine thanks, Kamio smiled widely. Kirihara really did look nice like that. He rolled onto his side again and inched forward a little without thinking about it, their faces uncomfortably close. "It was my pleasure," he said sincerely.

Wonder what he'd do if I kissed him? Akaya wondered. He was certainly asking for it, inching up like that with his face tilted up. Wonder if he even realizes he doing it? Doubtful. The question is, will he just sputter and spaz out, or will he sputter and spaz out and kick me off the team?

Ah, hell, only one way to find out... and he'd still be crazy not to have me on the team. With that he darted forward, brushing their mouths together in a brief contact. He let his tongue swipe lazily over Kamio's lips, tasting him, before moving back and sitting up. He stretched casually as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, just as if he hadn't done anything unusual. "I should get home..."

Kamio was still lying there, stunned. He'd thought about kissing Kirihara, more times than he was comfortable to admit, but he certainly hadn't expected the other boy to DO it.

And that licking...it was weird. But nice. Kamio drew his own tongue over his lips, fancying he could taste something lingering there.

"W-Wait!" he exclaimed, sitting up. "You can't go NOW!"

"Why not? I thought we were done studying?" Akaya asked with - not innocence, that would never be believed - but just the right mix of sleepiness and surprise. Wonder if I can get him to believe it was all in his head... Years of practical jokes and much study of Niou had taught him the delicate art of dissembling.

"But you KISSED me!" Kamio said accusingly. So much for believing it was all in his head. His lips were still tingling from the touch of Kirihara's tongue.

Well, he should have known Kamio was too strong-willed to hesitate and question whether it had really happened. "You were asking for it," Akaya replied, unrepentant. "If you didn't want me to do it, you shouldn't have offered yourself like that." He grinned and raised his hands mock defensively. "And if you beat me up, I won't be able to take over training your rookies and you'll still be stuck with them."

Kamio jumped to his feet. "Who said I didn't want you to do it?" he demanded, though he certainly looked angry, his fists clenched at his sides and trembling. Why is he doing this? How dare he kiss me and then pretend he didn't do it?

Raising an eyebrow, Akaya gave him an amused look. "Given your earlier protests against me flirting with you earlier, I kinda assumed you were doing it subconsciously. Which usually means that you wouldn't particularly welcome having it brought to your conscious. But hey, if it was deliberate, that's cool. Didn't realize you were such a flirt, Kamio."

He was pushing his luck, and he knew it. It was just too damn much fun, though. He hadn't honestly expected the redhead to admit to having wanted it.

"I'm not a slut!" Kamio snapped, not sure if he wanted to punch Kirihara or cry. "Why did you kiss me? What do you want?" The train of emotion was getting away from him again, and he knew it, but there was so much bubbling inside of him that he didn't know how to stop the words from coming and calm down.

As though his knees had given way, he dropped suddenly down to sit on the edge of his bed, wrapping his arms around himself and dropping his head forward so that the fall of his bangs hid his expression.

"Oi, oi..." Surprised and a little concerned, Akaya dropped the jester's mask and touched the other boy lightly on the shoulder. "Nobody said you were a slut, Kamio. There's a big difference between a slut and a flirt. I'm a flirt, worse than you'll ever be, probably." He hadn't meant to genuinely upset the redhead, just rile him a little.

Kamio looked up at the touch, his expression open and more than a little bewildered. "So you were just teasing, then," he said, not a question. "That's why you're leaving so fast."

"I was messing with your head," Akaya agreed. "I like to do that to people, in case you hadn't noticed." His voice was wry. "And I figured it was best to beat a hasty retreat before you got over the shock and came after me to kill me."

"Oh." Disappointment was thick in Kamio's voice as he looked down again. "Get out, Kirihara."

Shaking his head, Akaya stood. Judging from what Kamio was saying and the redhead's tone, he probably could have pushed this a lot farther if he wanted to. And part of him definitely wanted to; it wasn't hard to see that Kamio was generally a passionate guy, and that would tranlate well to a make-out session.

But he'd fucked with the redhead enough for one night, and frankly, anything further at this point would be suicide to their chances of ever really being friends. And Akaya wanted to be friends; he missed the easy relationship he'd had with his teammates last year.

Too bad it meant leaving Kamio with the impression that he'd wanted nothing other than to fuck with the redhead. "You'll figure me out sooner or later," was all he said, but he ran his fingers gently through that startling red hair.

Then he was out the door, wondering if Kamio would follow him or leave him to let himself out the way he had the previous night.

Kamio did NOT want to see Kirihara again - hopefully ever, though he knew that wasn't to be. At this point, he thought he HAD figured Kirihara out, and he was almost back to square one. Kirihara might want to be friends, but he was a manipulative charmer, who didn't care about anything but himself. And he certainly didn't give a fuck about Kamio's feelings.

For the second night in a row, Kamio went to sleep angry at his new teammate, and if that anger came with a few tears, he wouldn't have admitted it to anyone.

|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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