Chapter 2

That was how Atobe found him, an untold eternity later - covered in snow and ice, clinging to a tree, one pole dangling by the strap from his wrist and the other several feet farther down the path, tangled in a bush. Sliding to a halt, the captain pushed up his goggles and stared at his kouhai, nonplussed.

"Ohtori, what on earth are you doing up here?" he finally asked, eyes narrowed. The awkward way the younger boy had moved on his skis when they'd all started out hadn't escaped Atobe, and it had been a simple conclusion that the other didn't have much experience in the sport. And unlike his headstrong partner, who might be goaded into trying something beyond his abilities if his pride was prodded into it, Ohtori could generally be counted on to have more sense.

For a moment he thought the younger boy hadn't heard him. Indeed, Ohtori had been so wrapped up in his own despair, his mind numbed by the slowly seeping cold, that he'd barely registered the sound of the voice at first.

When he finally realized who was speaking to him, he gasped and opened his eyes, staring up at his captain in disbelief. "Atobe-buchou! Thank the gods... I thought nobody would ever find me up here," he all but sobbed, struggling to keep from making an idiot of himself in front of his captain with an overly emotional display. Belatedly he realized the older boy had asked him a question. "Mukahi-senpai tricked me..."

"And you fell for it?" Atobe asked, raising one eyebrow in an expression of disdain. "You had to take an entire succession of chair lifts to get all the way up here, Ohtori. You must have been aware of where you were going."

"He... he said Shishido-san had asked him to tell me to meet him up here, and that not everything up here was diamond runs," Ohtori said sheepishly, the words sounding foolish even to him. Gods, how could he have been so gullible?

Atobe sighed and pressed the bridge of his nose with his gloved fingers, trying to stave off a headache. Yes, the lure of Shishido was the one thing that could reliably be counted on to lead Ohtori into irrationality, and Mukahi was as aware of that as the rest of them. Really, even knowing his senpai's propensity for pranks, Ohtori was far too easily tricked.

The question was, how was he going to get him down off the mountain? "The chairlifts stopped running shortly after I got up here," he murmured, thinking aloud. One hand raised to the side of his face, his famed Insight turned inwards in an attempt to find a solution to the problem. "And the lodge worker had already gone home for the day, or perhaps been drawn away by an emergency somewhere. Was he not there when you reached the top?" Ohtori shook his head, his eyes shadowed. "Very well then, it appears we have no choice but to get you to the bottom the hard way," Atobe finally declared with another sigh.

Ducking his head, cheeks flaming, Ohtori confessed, "Atobe-buchou, I... I can't. I tried, it's too hard! I've never... I've never been skiing before. I took some lessons this morning, but this is way beyond me!"

Damn, that was even worse than he'd thought. "Still, there's nothing for it, I'm afraid," Atobe told him, sidestepping until he was within reach of the younger boy. Bracing himself, he leaned down to offer Ohtori a hand up. "We'll manage. You made it this far down on your own, you must have some basic skills. That will have to suffice."

Inwardly Atobe had to admit he was impressed at the younger boy's persistence, if nothing else. Remembering his own first day on skis, he doubted he would have been able to make it even this far on a triple diamond slope, regardless of how many times Ohtori had obviously fallen and gotten up again. Of course, he'd been considerably younger the first time his parents had taken him to the mountains, but still. It was admirable nonetheless.

Looking up at his captain with a renewed sense of hope, this time Ohtori caught the pronoun. "We?" he repeated, hoping his voice wasn't actually shaking as much as it sounded like it was. Atobe frowned at him.

"Of course, 'we'," the third year agreed, some heat in his voice. "I'm not about to simply leave you up here to fend for yourself, Ohtori. Just because we're not on a tennis court doesn't make me any less responsible for you." And honestly, what did the boy think of him? Even he acknowledged that he was arrogant almost - almost - to a fault, but he wouldn't have left anyone trapped up here on a frigid mountainside. Let alone one of his own teammates.

Hesitantly Ohtori reached up and took his hand, allowing the older boy to pull him awkwardly to his feet. Atobe held on for a moment as Ohtori got his skis arranged beneath him and caught his balance, then released his hand.

"Wouldn't it be better for you to go down and get help?" Ohtori asked uncertainly. Not that he wanted to be left alone up here on the mountain, dear gods no, but he had to admit that did seem the most logical course of action. To his surprise, Atobe shook his head.

"Shishido has undoubtedly already raised the alarm, when he couldn't find you," the captain explained wryly. "And once he manages to wring the story out of Mukahi, he'll be even more determined to look for you. We could of course just stay here and wait for them, but..." his storm-dark eyes raked over Ohtori's form with disapproval. "You've already stopped shivering, haven't you?"

Surprised, Ohtori took stock of himself. The light down jacket he wore, combined with the exertion of exercise, had been more than enough to keep him warm when he was skiing down on the lower slopes. Compared to the heavily insulated and waterproofed gear that Atobe, Hiyoshi and Jirou had been sporting, however, it might as well have been nothing at all. Hells, it didn't even have a hood, and the cotton headband and gloves he wore weren't doing much to help his ears or fingers, either.

"You're right, I'm not," he noted in surprise. He wasn't sure when he'd stopped - he knew he had been, when he'd first fallen and wound up hanging on to that tree, inches from the cliff edge. "But... the sun is setting, shouldn't it be getting colder?" he asked in some confusion.

"Shivering is your body's attempt to keep itself warm," Atobe informed him with narrowed eyes. "When you stop, that means it's given up on the attempt and is trying to conserve the last of its energy. You're skirting the edge of hypothermia; you need to keep moving to warm up again. If I leave you here to go for help, you'll be frozen solid by the time we find you again."

"Oh." Ohtori's voice came out very small, and there was a great deal of fear in his large brown eyes. He glanced down the path, then back at Atobe, and slowly the fear was joined with the sort of burning determination the second-year usually only showed on the tennis court. "All right, then. I can do this." I have to do this. I will not let a prank and a mountain defeat me... not like this. Not with Atobe watching!

Pleased by the look in his kouhai's eyes, Atobe nodded. There were those who thought Ohtori the weakest of the Regulars, because of his unassuming nature and desire to please everyone around him, but Atobe had known differently the first time he saw the younger boy's infamous Scud Serve. Ohtori Choutarou had a backbone of pure steel, forged in the heat of his own determination to succeed.

Motioning for the other to stay put for a moment, Atobe shoved off and went to fetch the stray pole. Sidestepping his way expertly back up the slope, he handed it to Ohtori and rested his hand on the taller boy's shoulder for a moment. Watching the younger boy grip the poles tightly and visibly psych himself up, Atobe added firmly, "You'll make it to the bottom in one piece, Ohtori. You have my word on that."

Ohtori glanced up sharply at that, and something in Atobe's expression reassured him. They all knew their captain never made a promise he couldn't keep - Atobe Keigo was many things, not all of them complimentary, but he always kept his word. And if there was one thing he truly cared about other than himself, it was his team.

"Let's go," he said, and pushed off. Atobe followed just behind him, the slick sound of their skis against the snow an odd counter-point to the rhythm of their breathing.

Atobe allowed Ohtori to precede him so that he could keep a sharp eye on his kouhai's movements. It meant his view of the trail was somewhat obscured, but he thought it better to be able to watch his companion for signs of strain or weakness. Besides which, if he'd been in front and Ohtori fell or lost control, he might have slammed into Atobe with little or no warning and sent them both crashing down the side of the mountain.

This way, Atobe was able to spot potential problems before they became a crisis, and could quickly speed his pace and pull up alongside Ohtori, to help him get control again. Atobe had been skiing almost as long as he'd been walking, and the motions came as naturally to him as breathing.

His admiration for the younger boy's skill and determination grew as he saw that Ohtori handled himself surprisingly well on the sharp turns. For only having had half a day of practice, it was obvious that the younger boy would be good at skiing if he got the chance to practice.

Well, what else can one expect of a Hyoutei Regular? he asked himself in amusement. We all have strong bodies and good reflexes and co-ordination. If this damn prank of Gakuto's doesn't scare him off the sport for life, I'm sure he'll eventually come to enjoy it.

The most difficult part of the path proved to be the cliffs, low drop-offs that the skier was supposed to take as a jump. Sometimes they were followed by sharp turns, which threatened to send an unwary skier right off the path if he couldn't control his momentum quickly enough. Ohtori watched with envy and a little awe as Atobe took each jump as smoothly as if the older boy were simply sauntering across a tennis court. His own attempts were awkward at best, and frequently ended with him once again flat on his side in the snow.

Atobe helped him to his feet each time he fell, and oddly there was no sign of censure or disapproval in his dark grey eyes. At one point, he even surprised Ohtori by laughing after the younger boy had taken a relatively high jump and actually managed to stay on his feet and slide to a somewhat controlled stop. Standing on the cliff above him, Atobe grinned down at him.

"Well, if nothing else," he captain informed him in amusement, "your level of ability on skis is improving by leaps and bounds as we go. That wasn't a half bad jump, all told. The green slopes will feel like child's play to you after this."

"That's true," Ohtori had to acknowledge with a soft laugh of his own. Maybe he'd even feel up to trying the blue slopes tomorrow, so Shishido wouldn't be quite so bored keeping him company. He was shivering again, the sharp wind making him cold despite his exertion, but he welcomed the shaking as a sign that the threat of hypothermia was receding. It did make it harder to keep control over his movements, though.

Shuffling backwards a few feet, Atobe pushed off with his poles and made a textbook landing next to Ohtori, sliding a few feet past him before halting easily. "Shall we?" the captain asked, gesturing gracefully down the trail as if he were inviting Ohtori to play a match set with him, or maybe to dance. Even dressed in heavy-duty winter gear, helping his severely outclassed kouhai make his way down a mountain in the gathering evening gloom, Atobe was still poised and perfect enough to look like he was posing for the cover of GQ, Ohtori reflected with some amusement and not a little admiration.

They had reached the part of the mountain that was in shadow now, the sun vanished behind another line of mountains in the west. It wasn't actually dark yet and wouldn't be for some time, but the heavy shadows made the trail hard to read. Hollows in the snow either looked deeper than they were or disappeared entirely, and it was impossible to tell what was ice and what was snow. Ohtori was growing tired, exhausted by their long flight that morning and the afternoon's exertions. The combination of fatigue and the difficulty seeing the trail caused him to slip and fall more and more often as they went.

Atobe watched as the younger boy's movements grew progressively sloppier, worrying. Ohtori was reaching the limits of his endurance, even his finely trained body possessing only so much strength. They still had a long way to go, and it was only going to get more difficult as they both grew more tired. He winced to himself as the boy fell again and lay in the snow for a long moment before struggling to get up. Ohtori's jacket was crusted with snow and ice, and his lips were faintly blue from cold.

On impulse, Atobe shifted both his poles to one hand and unzipped his jacket. "Here," he commanded, shrugging out of it and offering it to the taller boy. "Give me your jacket, you wear this. You're half frozen again, aren't you?"

Eyeing the warmly insulated jacket with longing, Ohtori shook his head. "Atobe-san, I can't take your jacket. Then you'll just be cold."

"We'll trade off as each of us warms up," Atobe told him firmly. "At the moment, you need it more than I do. Give me your jacket, Ohtori, that's an order."

Despite his reluctance to make Atobe suffer because of Ohtori's stupidity in falling for Mukahi's prank, the younger boy quickly yanked off his own jacket, not at all loathe to trade. He couldn't help the little sigh of pleasure that escaped him as he pulled his captain's jacket on and zipped it up. Not only was it better insulated than his own, it was still warm from Atobe's body heat. Ohtori pulled the hood up over his head to help keep him warm, and was immediately enveloped in a light, almost spicy scent.

He blinked, surprised. Despite his hordes of admirers Atobe was an aloof person at heart, valuing his personal space highly. Perhaps the only one of the Regulars who had ever been close enough to catch the haughty captain's body scent was Jirou, with his propensity for collapsing into sleep on anyone and everyone. Ohtori had certainly never been close enough to the older boy to smell him.

It was an enticing scent, and Ohtori felt almost as warmed by it as by the jacket itself. A shiver that was decidedly not caused by the cold worked its way up his spine, and he felt his cheeks heat. He turned away quickly, grateful the side of the hood hid his flaming face from his companion. Not to say he'd never had an inappropriate thought about his captain, because the older boy was nearly as alluring as he thought he was, and Ohtori was only human. But now was hardly the time or the place! He had a feeling the memory of that scent would stay with him long after he'd returned the jacket, however.

Atobe might not have been able to see Ohtori's blush, but he certainly couldn't have missed the suddenly awkward quality of the taller boy's movements. He raised an eyebrow, amused, as he shrugged into the light down jacket. I wonder what set him off, he thought, a smirk playing over his lips as Ohtori set off down the mountainside once more. Probably wishing it were Shishido he was stuck with, coming gallantly to his rescue and offering up his jacket like a sacrifice to his holy maiden. The mental image made him snort with repressed laughter as he pushed off after his teammate. Shishido is going to kick himself when he realizes what a golden opportunity he missed. I'll have to remember to keep him separated from Mukahi for the rest of this trip, or there may yet be bloodshed over this.

In retrospect, it was a miracle they made it as far down the mountain as they did before disaster struck. Ohtori had taken the last few jumps well and was starting to gain confidence. The next jump was nearly as high as he was tall, but he didn't even flinch as he went over the edge, bracing himself for the impact.

Too late Atobe saw the slick patch of ice at the bottom of the cliff, where snow had melted from the top, run down the side of the rock face, and puddled at the bottom. He shouted a warning, but there was nothing Ohtori could do to prevent himself from hitting it at that point.

Startled by the sudden shout behind him, Ohtori was thrown badly off balance when he landed and his skis shot out from under him. For the hundredth time that day he landed flat on his side, but this time the slippery waterproof shell of the jacket gave no friction on the equally slippery ice. "Atobe-san!" he screamed as he kept sliding, dropping his poles as he scrambled with his hands for purchase, trying to slow himself to no avail.

Atobe felt his heart leap into his throat when Ohtori hit the ice, went down, and kept sliding. This jump was one of those that was followed by a sharp turn, and if you missed the turn there was only a thin screen of scrubby trees to keep you from going over the much higher cliff beyond them. From there it was a very long, rocky tumble to the next level area.

Shoving his poles into the snow, Atobe launched himself over the cliff's edge. He landed on the ice and threw himself forward, dropping his own poles as he skidded after Ohtori, gloved hands snatching for purchase on the younger boy. He managed to catch Ohtori's arm just as they hit the tree line, fingers closing over slick fabric and hard muscle like a drowning man clinging to his only way out of the water.

There was a sickening crack as they impacted the line of trees and Atobe's shin smacked against a boulder hidden by a scant inch of snow. He felt a surge of nausea in his gut as pain washed over him, and he knew the leg was broken. He refused to release the death grip he had on Ohtori's arm, as the younger boy was dangling over the edge of the cliff, only Atobe's hold and his own desperate grip on a branch keeping him from falling.

Panicked, Ohtori managed to get a grip on Atobe's upper arm as well, so they were both hanging on to each other. "Don't let go," he begged, brown eyes staring up into grey as they both panted with fear and pain.

"I won't," Atobe promised him through gritted teeth. Ignoring the screaming agony of his leg, he hauled backwards, grateful for all the hours spent doing tennis swings with a weighted wristband. His arms were much stronger than they would have been otherwise, and he somehow managed to get the taller boy far enough up for Ohtori to be able to scramble the rest of the way himself.

He'd lost one of his skis at some point, Ohtori noted vaguely as he collapsed in the snow next to Atobe, panting and shaking with fear. It was probably down at the base of the cliff now, where he'd very nearly joined it. He kicked the other off and sat up slowly, testing to make sure he wasn't going to end up sliding down the slope again. The ice had been fractured by the impact of two solid teenaged bodies on it, leaving it not as slick as it had been when he'd first hit it, so he was safe enough for the moment.

"Oh gods," he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Oh, gods! What are we going to do now?" Without the ski, he couldn't even try to keep going. He'd have to walk, and hope that somehow he wouldn't slip and fall again. Belatedly he realized his captain hadn't moved since getting him back up onto the cliff. "Atobe? Are you okay?"

"Not very," the third year muttered, his voice cracking with pain. Ohtori gasped; he'd never heard Atobe sound like that before. Exhausted after a long practice, sure, but... not like it was taking everything he had not to scream in agony. Atobe turned his head to meet Ohtori's eyes, trying for a look of casual disdain that fell far short of its intended mark. He'd lost his goggles and his eyes were dark with pain, deep lines at the corners showing his strain. His lips were white, and Ohtori saw a trickle of red where he'd bitten through the corner.

"What... what happened?" Ohtori asked, eyes wide as he hastily scanned Atobe's body. There was nothing obvious... at least, not until the older boy made an aborted motion to sit up, and he saw the awkward way his left leg was lying.

"It would appear the odds have finally caught up with me," Atobe said, struggling to keep his voice light. "I've been skiing for years and never broken my leg yet, I suppose I was overdue..." He gasped as he shifted without thinking and another shock went through his system.

Strong hands caught at his shoulders and helped ease him into a sitting position before he could collapse again. "Damn. How bad is it, do you think?" Ohtori murmured, eyes darker than usual with concern. "Did the bone break through the skin, can you tell? It didn't rip through your ski pants, anyway..."

"No, I don't think it's a compound break," Atobe assured him. "I don't feel any bleeding. It might even just be a fracture, but the fact remains, I'm not going to be putting weight on it any time soon." How pathetic, he verbally castigated himself. Your kouhai is relying on you, and you go and break your leg like a green fool. Idiot. Not very perfect at the moment, are you?

"Don't even try it!" Ohtori exclaimed, aghast at the thought. "Don't even move. If it's only fractured, you don't want to break it. And if it is broken, you don't want to make it worse." He slid forward so that Atobe's back was braced against his broad chest, so the older boy wouldn't have to strain to keep himself upright.

"Ohtori," Atobe started, his tone warning against this invasion of his personal space. To his shock, instead of drawing away Ohtori unzipped his jacket and leaned forward, pressing tight to Atobe's back and wrapping the jacket around them both.

"You can't move to keep yourself warm, so I'll have to do it for you," the younger boy told him, his warm breath puffing against the side of Atobe's neck. He was leaning forward enough that if Atobe turned his head he could see the serious expression on his kouhai's face. "We'll just have to stay here like this until Shishido-san and the others find us."

His voice was firm, making the words a command rather than a suggestion, for all the world as if he were the captain and Atobe his kouhai. Amused despite the pain, Atobe snorted with laughter. "Are you presuming to give me orders now, Ohtori-kun?" he asked, adding the honourific just to remind the younger boy of his place. To his gratification Ohtori flushed, but the hint of stubbornness didn't leave those warm brown eyes.

"No, of course not buchou," Ohtori replied stiffly, stung by the verbal slap. "Do you have a better suggestion?"

Atobe was forced to admit that he didn't. "No, actually," he sighed, giving in and relaxing the muscles in his back that he'd been holding rigid, keeping him slightly away from Ohtori. And wasn't this a fine situation for Shishido and the others to find them in; Ohtori wrapped around his captain like a lover's embrace, and Atobe the next thing to helpless in his arms. Shishido can deal with it, I suppose, he thought, a little sourly. Even someone with as perfect a temperament as he possessed could be prodded into irritability with this much pain, after all. He's right, I'll freeze if he doesn't keep me warm.

And, he acknowledged silently to himself as his body settled against Ohtori's, it's not as if it's a chore to lean against him like this. I knew Ohtori was strong, but I didn't realize he was this solid. If Shishido ever does land him, I hope he appreciates what he's got.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

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