Sorry for the infinitely long hiatus!!! Real life really hates me, lo I bemoan. To make up for it I've make some postings of my fics at my profile, so go take a look! :D

* On another note, I'd also like to post up the long shot fics I've been mentioning—Hyotei!Ryoma AU and Gender!bending fic AU Ryoma as well. I finished them last year but I'm not very satisfied with them, so I'll post them up as soon as I do the finishing touches ^^;; I've gotten a lot of request for the fic by e-mail than I expected, so I'll just go ahead and post them.

Onto the story then!!!!

*Sometimes I think Oshitari would tease Keigo mercilessly about how the hell he managed to date a freshman whom he obviously hated before. Then there are times when I see Oshitari musing his deep genius musings that turn into crappy angst. Such is the story below.

Disclaimer: Nothing is owned, because unfortunately, Tenipuri would turn into a big heap of angst and snark with only Hyotei and Ryoma in it if it was up to me.

Thank you for the immediate and wonderful reviews for the last fic :D They made my day!


He sees them and predicts destruction.

It's funny how Yuushi's mind wanders to his captain and the Seigaku brat and automatically predicts disaster. He's proud to admit that he wasn't one of those people who jump to conclusions, but he deemed that this conclusion was a one well worth making, when he sees them together, and he sees the thinly veiled hatred that was twisted inside Echizen's eyes and the laughter, the smirk.

It was unhealthy, but he would be damned to point this out.

Echizen was certainly dangerous, for one. He hasn't yet to see a first year so wild, not even with Atobe's case; there was a insanity, true, the laughter which Yuushi later realized as satisfaction, but behind that insanity there was a mind that was clever enough to lead a full tennis team. Behind his laughter and arrogance there was, Yuushi had to admit, a capacity to rule over a bunch of hyper teammates he called his own.

But Echizen.

No, that boy was different. He was wild. Those eyes that Atobe was in no doubt infuriated by were fire itself; they held too many things for one person to read, let alone handle. Those eyes lit up too much, a causal smirk and a tossing challenge, a fleet of the air, a brush of the wind. Echizen was unpredictable—he came by one day and won the Nationals Seigaku had no chance of getting before and disappeared again to his homeland only to return again. He didn't stay to claim his leadership like Atobe would have done, no—he let it pass on to his seniors, and he was content with defeating Sanada, Atobe, Yukimura. Perhaps even Tezuka. Atobe seemed to like such unpredictability. Yuushi would have called him a machoist. Atobe knew how to control a crowd. Echizen knew how to destroy one. Atobe knew things that Echizen knew how to bring down. Echizen liked to taunt Atobe of the things he could never have and destroy the things Atobe succeeds in getting.

Then he sees something else entirely.

Funnily enough it came to his mind in the middle of something he shouldn't have seen. Or rather, something that Atobe really shouldn't have done in a tennis locker room where anyone could burst in at any moment. But he was the captain and Yuushi happened to have left his tennis bag in his locker and ended up crouched very uncomfortably under one of the benches while Echizen screamed.

Echizen is beautiful when he's being fucked. Yuushi noted this as he would like a simple fact—he's seen another unfortunate session of sex with Shishido and Ootori that he does not wish to remember—and he brings this up and compares that particular incident with this one. The one held right before his eyes.

Echizen is lithe and short and fair skinned with dark hair covering his small face and his face is pale and his mouth is open and bruised, maybe from all the kissing that wouldn't stop between them. His thin arms that look awkward are held in a vice grip against Atobe's own fair skin, and his torso is bare and so very surreal.

Shishido and Ootori. That time had been a passionate blush between lovers, a whisper of We can't do this here and a snicker and maybe laughter. It was sickening to see, but Yuushi was happy enough for them, and he had teased Shishido for months afterwards. There was love there. Or maybe a strong liking, if high schoolers were too young to know what love was. But this. This before his eyes.

Echizen was screaming and he was laughing. It wasn't a laugh that spoke of amusement—but, oh it was amusement all right—sick, sick amusement, and a choke of faster and Keigo or maybe another scream. He was being slammed onto the floor again and again, and Atobe wasn't being gentle like how Ootori had been or how Shishido had been. Yuushi couldn't see Atobe's face. But Echizen didn't seem to mind; he only gripped Atobe's arms tighter and rasped out more commands that Atobe followed. That torso gleamed with sweat, bruised with kisses, and merged into one.

Echizen whispered something out. Yuushi held his breath. His musing change from here on.

Perhaps Echizen wanted destruction and Atobe was willing to oblige him.

Destroy me. It was a command that haunted Yuushi for months afterwards.


Another time he has it completely fucked up.

Their relationship is complicated, he contends to himself, and a slight misunderstanding would be acceptable.

"You seem to hate the boy," he observes to Atobe one day, pretending that he carries off the statement as a passing. Atobe stops buttoning his shirt for a spilt second, then resumes on as if Yuushi hadn't spoken.

"Who?" Atobe's voice is mild; he almost believes the nonchalant tone Atobe offers to him.

He smirks instead and leans against the clubhouse wall. "Echizen."

Those hands do stop this time, and Atobe turns to face him. Atobe raises an eyebrow. "Echizen," he repeats, and Yuushi can see, again with the pretending. "Why should I hate him?"

He tilts his head to one side and shrug. He has been waiting for this conversation to be taking place for some time; he knew Atobe would come out like this, it was his job to twist it the right way.

But he lets it drop. More because it wasn't any of his business. He just shrugs and drawls out Echizen would be waiting for him, and Atobe doesn't press.

And the story should end there. It really should. But it doesn't, and what Yuushi next sees is Echzien suddenly disappearing like the wind the brat seems to be and leaving whatever god knows behind. Atobe is silent for months afterward.

No it wasn't hate. Then what was it?


He almost gets it, when he sees Atobe at a funeral.

The Atobe head of the family had died due to a car accident that was more of a shock than anything else—suddenly Keigo was to inherit a fortune and an empire that was too much for a man (a boy, Yuushi would have liked to say, but Atobe had long since outgrown the features of boyhood) of eighteen to handle. He was suddenly named one of the richest people on earth and the media was already proclaiming the estimates of the legacy of the Atobe family. To Keigo, though, it was losing a father. Yuushi knew this, and pressed his lips shut at the flashes heading his way.

There was rain. There shed no tears.

The entire Hyotei team was there, out of anything, more of respect than anything else for their captain. Atobe merely nodded at their presence and gave Yuushi a brief smile and Shishido gave Atobe a semi-awkward hug that was too out of place for any of them. But Atobe looked immune to it all, and they stood there, being drenched by rain, mourning a man they didn't even know but still mourning, because old habits die hard.

A black car drove past up the road and planted itself neatly on the curb. A person Yuushi did not expect to see got out.


Yuushi just stares as Echizen ignores all the cameras and the flashes. He must have become used to them, Yuushi thinks with a small trace of amusement, then Atobe sees him too and suddenly those eyes that had been dead grow wide and Echizen is still walking.

Why Yuushi felt the world had to stop there he didn't know. He felt that time should have stopped.

Echizen barely makes it in front of Atobe when Atobe grabs one of his arms and yanks them closer. The flashes grow faster, the rain pouring. Echizen is not smirking but looking solemn. He doesn't refuse the embrace. Yuushi sees Atobe burying his head against Echizen's shoulders. Echizen lets him. His arms slowly wraps around Atobe. He doesn't let go.

The cameras can't seem to stop clicking their damn shutters and Echzien looks like a ghost. It's a strange thing to note at a funeral, but Echizen was unreal. He always was. Did Atobe know this?

Yuushi thinks he might get it this time. There's nothing to understand between them.


It's mad. Destructive.

There's a certain path that was expected of him and Atobe. Not him to be specific but to Atobe, certainly. Echzien had a path to, something that Yuushi was unfamiliar with. Being a world famous tennis star, becoming rich, becoming media headlines. Becoming something.

But the boy stays.

He sees it in Atobe's eyes as well. He knows it's destructive, it's unhealthy. And yet that idiot still wants something he so obviously shouldn't have, and he wasn't going to stop him. Yuushi shrugs and pours himself another glass of martini.

Sex, love, lust. It was a circle of things Yuushi was familiar with. He doubted if Atobe was.

But then again, Yuushi smiled, a grim one but still a smile, Atobe always had loved a challenge. Echizen could provide him that much, he was sure.


A/N: I am so getting flamed for this but who cares, Yuushi always was a philosophical bastard when he isn't thinking about love and sex. :D

This will be the end of my one-shot series. Not because I won't be posting any more one-shots, but because I think I'll find it more convenient to post out separate one-shots when I'll be starting two long series shortly. The Genderbending fic can be counted as a very long one-shot but the Hyotei fic? Man, I let my imagination run wild on that one.

Thank you for everyone who supported this series of one-shots!!!! :D