A/N: This fic is inspired by the story Ice Prince of Nigel Damas.
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis or any of its characters. Why do you think a site like FanFiction exists? It's there for the unleashing of our ideas. (P.S. I thank Takeshi Konomi and co-owners/masterminds of PoT for allowing those adorable musicals and PoT band theme placed in motion. GREAT-O!
Warning: This fic may be considered a work of plagiarism but it really isn't! I am saying I was inspired by another author in Fanfic. So if Nigel Damas happens to read this particular fic, I hope you like it and I must say that 'Ice Prince' is a very wonderful story. Although I'm wondering why you didn't continue…
*The start of this story is similar to my other story: Mother Dearest. Rest assured that the plot is nothing like it because this is not an Mpreg fic. Haha, just wanted to say it. :D
"But…but… but why?!" the young boy screamed in anguish at him, angry hot tears falling like waterfalls down his cheeks.
Brown eyes turned to look at anywhere but him as he tried to shield himself from the sight of his crying kouhai, his heart not bearing the sight. "We are never meant to be, Ryoma. It will never work for us." His voice that was usually big and commanding was surprisingly small and weak in the empty halls that led to the main tennis courts.
"Don't you dare tell me it won't work for us! I… I… I can, I can ma-" the prodigy that was usually so quiet and reticent lashed out but was stopped when his captain grabbed both his small hands and trapped them in his bigger ones.
His eyes held a sort of grief in them as he looked at both their hands, the solemnity of his features adding more distress to the young boy's overflowing emotions. "No, Ryoma. It's enough." His big hands were warm and the younger boy continued to cry as they stayed like that.
The Seigaku captain bent down slowly and placed a chaste kiss to the boy's damp forehead and Ryoma cried more at the action. "It's enough, already. No more… no more, Ryoma." The brunette straightened up after that and left the boy standing with his head bowed down and tears falling silently to the floor. In the boy's hands, however, was a small white box tied up with white ribbons.
The prodigy gripped the box slightly and finally crumpled to the floor as his emotions finally let loose. More tears escaped his golden eyes as he heard in the wind a faint whisper.
"I love you, Ryoma."
He cried loudly, howling in grief at the end of such a lovely relationship as those faints words that he heard, echoed endlessly in his soul at the same time it echoed endlessly in the deserted halls he was in, mocking him for his loneliness…
He threw the pillow to the farthest corner of the dimly lit room, huffing in barely concealed frustration and anger. The teenage boy blistered with irritation closing in on his angelic features and glared at the mangled cotton-filled case. He glared at it as if it was the cause of all his anger but no, it wasn't. He was just being a brat who was so cowardly to face his own problems.
A sweaty and trembling hand ran through his long, bleached blonde hair and it cascaded gracefully to frame the sides of his face. A few strands covered his eyes but behind the platinum curtains, two golden orbs glittered with unshed tears.
His one hand stayed on his head, gripping hardly on his hair while the other covered his face as he fought to keep himself from crying. The boy tried hard and hard but the tears still came and didn't stop until one drop fell followed by another and another in a never-ending river of saline water.
He slumped on the nearest chair and curled into himself as he continued crying. He is usually the silent crier, not wanting others to know that he actually is crying. But today, he seemed the feelings were too much to handle and he would let a strangled sob escape every once in a while through shaking red lips.
He felt like a young boy again. But he perfectly knew that he wasn't and will never be again. It was because of his childishness that he cried like this and it was also because of his childishness that caused the tears. If he wasn't so naïve back then to believe in such things then he wouldn't even feel conflicted like he was now.
Time passed, seconds, minutes, hours, he didn't know. It was after a long while that someone finally came to check up on him. The tears had stopped flowing and he was sitting sluggishly on the plush chairs of his dressing room with dry tear marks marring his flawless pale skin. The rapping sound of someone knocking the door made him sit up and with zombie-like movements, opened it with one full swing.
"What is it?" His voice was slightly effeminate but was deep enough to be accounted for his masculinity. It was melodic in the ears and was light enough like a fresh drizzle on a lazy afternoon but was captivating and heady like an irresistible drug. No wonder it captivated the hearts of many fans worldwide. It still sounded like a sweet symphony even if his voice was coarse from crying.
The woman who knocked was one of the studio assistants. She had average features and held nothing special about her but the young pop star knew that she was important enough to reach his dressing room. Just as everyone who was present at the backstage because it will be a great privilege to meet face to face the newest rising superstar, Yuki or Snow.
The woman fixed the thick glasses that were perched on her pudgy nose and checked the slate board in her hands. The boy deduced that it held the show's schedules. She cleared her throat and said to him, "You'll be on in 10, Mr. Yuki. Get ready."
He gave her a slight nod and a small smile that made her blush on the spot before he closed the door to his dressing room after saying that he'll start preparing himself. He took off the black graffiti shirt he got from a discount store that he wore and replaced it with a sleeveless silver top with black embroidery at the left side. He decided to leave his dark grey cargos be and grabbed a pair of maroon colored sneakers before placing a few accessories.
A dark red choker on his neck and a worn out black Fila wristband on his right arm, just below the elbow and even placed a few earrings on his ear that he had just gotten pierced. He pulled his bleached blonde hair into a top knot. It had only reached passed his shoulders but he wanted it to be kept up, wanting to show off perfect pale skin as his perverted manager, Yagami once said.
Yuki checked himself on the mirror and smiled at what he saw. Lookin' like a rock star. He went to the small rest room inside his dressing room and washed his face, trying to freshen up a little and hoping that no one would notice he was crying earlier. He got out in a slightly better mood and sat down comfortably on the same plush chair he had been sitting on a while ago.
He closed his eyes and let out a tired sigh, this was his work. And during work, his feelings were not included. His personal life would not get in the way; this was his time now as Yuki… his other persona.
Another knock came at the door and he snapped his eyes open immediately to reveal sinfully beautiful golden orbs. He seemed a bit dazed for a moment before the insistent knocking on the door broke him out of his reverie. The faint sounds of someone calling him and that he had 2 minutes left brought him back to reality.
He answered with a hasty, "I'll be right there." Yuki got up from the chair and headed for the door before stopping by the pillow he threw earlier and placed it back on its proper place on the couch. He reminded himself again that this was his job, his work and his own feelings were not important. His private life… his other life, would not get in the way of his new one.
Just as he dropped the pillow on the chair he saw something glinting on his dressing room table. He went to it and was rather surprised to see it and his hand instinctively touched his neck, noting that he really did forget to wear it. In all haste, he grabbed it and wore it on his neck, feeling a little more secure.
Even if his personal life shouldn't get in the way, it should never ever be gone in his life. This necklace was the only thing left for Yuki to remember him and he would never in hell lose it.
He grasped the plain silver ring that hang on the silver necklace before opening the door, the traditional bratty smirk intact on his face as he graced everyone in back stage with his godly presence. Every eye turned to face him and he basked in the attention. He was great eye candy after all.
Oh yes, his work had begun…
"Oishi! Oishi, nya! It's Yuki! Yuki's going to appear on J-Pop tonight!" the red tornado exclaimed as he bounced excitingly on the couch he was sitting on, disturbing the other occupants of the big furniture.
"Kikumaru." It was all it took for the childish red head to calm down like a sullen puppy on his side of the couch as two irritated brown eyes flashed dangerously behind thin spectacles. The brunette sat at the other side of the couch, his legs were crossed over one other and a big tome lay idle on his lap.
"Please do not forget that you are in my house and this is my couch that you are destroying." He glared at Kikumaru who trembled underneath it and hid behind his partner, Oishi.
"Nya, Oishi… Tezuka's being mean again!"
The black haired man smiled nervously at Kikumaru and patted him slightly on the back. He was about to say something when a certain smiling tensai came from behind them and said. "Maa, Eiji… this is his house after all."
"Hello, everyone," the muscled man beside him greeted to the people in the room.
"Ah, Taka-san! It's been a long while. How's your sushi shop going?" another muscle man in the house asked. His spiky black hair standing like a proud crown and his violet eyes twinkling in excitement at seeing a few more of his former team mates.
"Everything's been fine, Momo. How about you?" Kawamura Takashi, because that was his name, asked back.
"Oh, me and Ann-chan are fine. I still haven't proposed to her though, yet…"
"Ooh nya! Momo, we support you! Make sure to invite us to your wedding nya!" Kikumaru exclaimed, having gotten over his initial terror of his former captain's glare and decided to mingle with his other former team mates from Seigaku.
"Good luck, Momo." Oishi Syuichirou, Kikumaru's ex-doubles partner said to his former kouhai.
"Arigatou, minna." The violet eyed man shrugged and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment but as he did, his elbow accidentally hit someone who was innocently passing by.
A loud pained grunt came from the unsuspecting victim and Momo immediately broke down into apologies but stopping himself quickly, after realizing who he just hit as snake-like eyes glared at him and a venomous sounding hiss came from plump lips.
"Fssshh… Baka Momoshiro…"
"What was that mamushi?!"
"Are you picking a fight with me, peach-butt?!"
"Just bring it on Kaidoh, bring it on!"
Another man came in right then and there, interrupting the sudden fight. He emerged from the kitchen and in his hands as he held it up high, was a pitcher of swirling green stuff as a few bubbles popped at the surface, emitting a foul odor in its wake. "The loser of this fight will drink the Inui Special Deluxe 7.72."
Everybody wisely kept quiet as the two heated rivals shriveled back in a corner, trying to get away from the demented drink as far away as possible. Fuji chuckled at the side, smiling and enjoying his friends' discomforts as Oishi, Kawamura and Kikumaru turned slightly pale at the seeing the beverage. Tezuka was the only who seemed unaffected while he sat on his one part of the couch, continuing to reading his book but you could see the slight shaking of his hands and the incessant ticking of his one elegant eye brow.
"Inui, keep your drinks outside of my house." The brunette used his authoritative voice, the one he usually used in his days as the Seigaku captain while he shouted out orders and barked out laps. His thick bespectacled friend smartly backed away and hid the liquid from their sight, knowing full well the distaste Tezuka had with his Inui drinks.
"Of course, buchou." No one in the right mind can protest to that.
The 8 former Seigaku tennis players were currently in their former club captain, Tezuka Kunimitsu's house. Fuji Syuusuke, their resident sadist, wanted to throw a reunion for the former tennis dream team and thought it right to be held in their respected captain's humble abode. Tezuka did not agree wholly, oh no. it was after a few persuasion techniques (torture procedures) did he cave in to his smiling friend's wishes.
Their reunion was almost complete; however one particular boy wonder was not there with them. Momoshiro, being his best friend in junior high noticed the absence.
"Hey, is Echizen coming?"
The single question that put everyone's actions to a halt and the one that gravely affected their respectable buchou. He stopped turning the page, his hand stilled as it clenched tightly on the edge of the book's hard cover.
"No, I haven't seen him. Actually, no one has seen our little rookie since we won the Nationals. I tried to contact him but I can't reach his number. And even his parents are keeping his whereabouts unknown last time I asked them, anyway." Fuji said, his blue eyes opened because this was a personal topic for him and all of the former Seigaku team. They wanted to know what happened to the boy and it pained them that they don't even know what's happening to him now.
That terrible grieving silence hung in the air until Kikumaru decided to break it jumping up from the couch in an attempt to bring everyone's spirits back up. "Nya, Nya, minna! I'm sure ochibi is fine, right Oishi?"
"Y-Yeah…" his partner gave a sad smile and the red head huffed in annoyance.
"Mou! Stop moping, everyone! I'm pretty sure ochibi is perfectly safe and happy wherever he is right now." He stopped for a while going over everyone's faces as they locked onto his for-the-first-time serious expression.
Momoshiro was the first to speak, "Yeah, I'm sure that he is… I mean, HE IS!" the powerhouse pumped his fist high into the air, his rival joining in too with a deep, 'Ough!' "Wherever Echizen might be, I'm sure and positive that he's happy. And besides, this is a reunion! We can't go wasting our time crying, we have to even if we're not complete."
"That's right Momo. Celebrate, Great-O!" a burning Kawamura said as he swung his magically appearing racket in the air.
"Hey, minna! I heard that Yuki's on J-Pop tonight!" Kikumaru intervened as everyone finally got happy smiles on their faces.
Another silence hung in the air but this time it was not of their sadness but because of their surprise. "Yuki… Yuki as in the famous Japanese singer from America, Yuki?"
"Yes! Yuki as in Yuki-sama!"
. . .
A flurry of movements and everyone fought for a position in front of the TV, trying to get a good seat as Kikumaru moved to open the electrical appliance. They were all rabid fans of Yuki, whose great singing enticed their hearts. All but except a certain brunette who had kept silent ever since that question was spoken.
His hands where still gripping the sides of the book tightly as he fought to control the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. It had hurt him but he left the boy heartbroken that day with himself feeling heartbroken as well. For their feelings still ran deep and the sudden break-up was totally unexpected. Tezuka blamed himself for the reason they never saw Echizen anymore, it was his fault that the boy left Seigaku after the Nationals. It was his entire fault.
And after 7 years, those feelings of guilt were still buried inside of him along with his still strong love for the golden eyed prodigy. Each night he would toss and turn and in the morning an aching hardness in his loins or an uncomfortable wetness between his legs after vivid dreams of his former lover.
If he had a chance to set things right again, he would and he would not waste time in telling the boy again that he loved him and would continue loving him and they would never part again. Tezuka was just waiting for that chance now and he would wait patiently until he would reach the day he died.
But today was the present and the brunette tried to regain his composure as he heard his friends' squeals of 'Yuki' and the equally loud squealing that came from the open TV in front of them.
His brown eyes fixed on the figure that walked with such grace and beauty but retained a bratty attitude as he headed for the center of the stage. The pop idols face clearly showing his pleasure at seeing rabid and loyal fans simpering at his feet like puppies would at their masters, giving them a playful smile and a slight wave.
Narrowing his eyes, he had just noticed a slight similarity between that pop star Yuki and Seigaku's missing rookie since 7 years ago, Echizen Ryoma. Tezuka decided he would watch this person and maybe fool himself that this was Ryoma in front of him and not some spoiled rich singer. For once, he would indulge himself in this sin of replacing the one he truly loved. Just this once because he can't seem to bear it. Their likeness was so… so…
He closed the book gently and set it aside, choosing to continue his reading later as he sat back more comfortably at his spot and listened with tennis-honed ears the interview on the Ryoma-like pop star, Yuki.
A/N: Angsty… yikes. Nigel Damas, please, if you are to read this, I would really die for your review. PLEASE! I love your story so much that I really can't resist writing one like it! I might going to be using some of your OC names so I would really appreciate it if you would give me your permission or blessings.
Reviews are always appreciated.