A/N: This is the result of my week long trip to Connecticut. If you must blame anything, blame the Newport, Rhode Island mansions (mostly the Breakers). Those things filled me with inspiration to write this story (yes this is a multi-chapter fic). I'm going to try and update once a week with this until it's finally finished. Enjoy this first chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Prince of Tennis. I'm just playing in Takeshi Konomi's sandbox.
Dreams, Niou Masaharu came to realize, where a powerful thing. They could pull a person from reality and send them to a world where anything was possible. The Grim Reaper could come and read them a bed time story or they could be best friends with a god. Dreams were a place to seek refuge from the real world to create a whole new one; a world where you held the blue prints to.
Dreams, Niou Masaharu soon came to realize, could also show him where his soul had been in the past. A time where he had lived in riches with his two brothers in the new world. A place completely different then Kanagawa, Japan.
"Niou-senpai, what are we going to do today?" the seaweed head second year bounced up and down as the pair made their way to the silver haired boy's house.
"Well, we could go swimming," Niou suggested then proceeded to laugh at a memory.
"Senpai that's not funny! I was eight years old and you knew I couldn't swim!" Kirihara stopped his bouncing to defend himself. It wasn't his fault Niou had pushed him into the deep end of the pool without his water wings on.
"Normal eight year olds know how to swim though," Niou dried the tears that were starting to form in his eyes. That Trickster had been busy drying so he didn't see to large box that occupied half of the side walk now. With a 'fuck', he fell to the concrete.
"Of course I don't have a camera the first time I see you crash," Kirihara ran over to help his senpai up even though the boy before him was an evil, twisted person.
"It's not my fault some idiot decided to throw this piece of junk out on the street." Niou gave the large object a quick look down before ordering Kirihara to help him carry it to his room. The two argued for a bit over the whys but Kirihara reluctantly agreed when Niou offered to pay him to carry it. Who could turn down free money?
After dinner Niou ran straight up to his room to give the box a thorough inspection. It seemed to be made of a wood that was native to the continent of North America with glass surrounding three sides of the upper half of the box. The inside had a rather large figurine dressed in golden gypsy garb that had her hands wrapped around a crystal orb with the words 'The Past is the Present' was carved into the stand for the orb.
Niou ran his fingers over a silver plated button and a card popped out of a hidden slot. He took the card and read:
Second son of Zachariah and Mary Braxton
Newport, Rhode Island 1847
He flipped the card over and on the back was:
Welcome to the dreams of your past
Before the silver haired boy knew it, he passed out cold on the floor and experiencing the wildest dream he had ever cared to remember.
When Niou woke up he was in the middle of a grand hallway. The sides of the hallway were skillfully designed with maple leaves and columns that could have on been carved by an expert artist. A silken carpet was carefully laid in the middle of the marble hall which was where the silver haired trickster was seated.
"Young masters? YOUNG MASTERS! Where are the two of you?" a voice rang through the hall. A middle age women, around forty years old, dressed in old time clothes jogged down the hall while holding up her skirts to make her jog easier. "Master Choutarou! Master Masaharu! Come out now! Your parents strongly request you two get ready for the ball!"
The shrill voice filled Niou senses while he realized the women called out his first name and another familiar name.
'Choutarou? Isn't that Ohtori's first name? And why is she calling my name, too?'
"Maria calm down," a silver haired boy appeared from one of the rooms on the hall to calm the older women down. The boy's silver hair was short, cut exactly as Ohtori's would be and surely as tall as the second year.
"Master Choutarou, you know that your father was expecting you and your brothers to be ready for the ball by now. I've already talked to your eldest brother and he is ready but I have yet to here from you and Master Masaharu," the harsh tone of the women overwhelmed to soft voice of the taller boy. "Master Masaharu was never like this when I was his nurse. He was always a kind and considerate boy whenever I was around. My, my, I even remember changing his diapers in the nursery."
"I'm sure you do Maria," Choutarou kissed the top of the old nurse's head," but Haru's a grown man now, even if he can't give up the trickster ways of his young teens."
"I don't consider seventeen to be a grown man," Maria hugged the youngest son tight before releasing him." Now, come. We still have to get the pair of you ready before the Silver Brother's Ball."
From there, Niou was transported, standing up, to a grand ballroom that had the same maple leaf design and details on the walls. Here, the room was filled with people dressed in impressive garb for the time period. On the far side of the room was a triple stair case. Two stair cases wound up the sides and on ran straight.
"Attention!" a man's voice, this time sounding around fifty, resounded through the hall that began at the base of the stairway. "I would like to welcome you all to the Silver Brother's Ball. As you all know, this ball is held every year to welcome back the three Braxton boys from their travels for the social season here in Newport." Pausing, the man took a quick look up the stairs and continued. "I would now like to welcome the sons. Now we shall begin. Returning from his trip to England, please welcome, the first son, Mr. Keigo Braxton." A polite applause filled the room as the curled silver boy made his way down the left stair case. Niou came to recognize the first to be Atobe Keigo, the captain of Hyoutei Gakuen. "The third son, back from his boarding school in New London, Mr. Choutarou Braxton." The same boy from the hallway made his way down the right stair case and Niou finally saw his face. The boy was in fact a spitting image of Ohtori Choutarou. "And, finally, the second son, coming from his own school in Massachusetts, please welcome, Masaharu Braxton." Coming from the middle staircase, Niou saw a replica of himself coming down the grand stairs except in the fancy clothes of the nineteenth century. "Now, I would like to introduce the lord and lady of this summer cottage. Please welcome Lord Zachariah and Lady Mary, returning from their home in New York City, New York."
Niou awoke to find it was midnight in Japan. Rubbing his eyes, he couldn't believe he had been in a dream. It had seemed so…real, like he had actually been there.
'I have to get to sleep. I have school tomorrow,' taking a look at his calendar he saw that he had tennis practice that next morning. 'Damn it. Looks like I have to wake up earlier tomorrow, too. But that dream,' Niou posed at undressing himself to get into his sleep clothes,' I wonder if I'll have another one.'
And, as the Trickster slept, the gypsy box he had brought home gleamed in the moon light.