Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Reason ❯ Reason To Stay ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Reason to Stay

Fandom: Prince of Tennis

Author: Lethanon

Archive: www.geocities.com/lethanon

Pairing: TachibanaxIbu

Warnings: Angst, shounen-ai, PG-13

Notes: For Kippei's bday! Lol. Prequel to Reason to Worry.

Tachibana Kippei stared at a sky neither blue nor grey; a sky trying and failing to decide what it wanted to be. It was a familiar horizon, yet he had never been there before. He almost thought he should know it, as if something was pulling him toward it, but he knew the school was unfamiliar. He had chosen it because it was the worst school in the district his family had moved to, and because there was just something about it that made him think that didn't have to be the case. That it could be something more, and he could find something more in it, and make something more of himself. Anything to escape the monotony of the life he had been living.

Ann shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other, shuffling her feet a little nervously as she glanced over at him. He tried to smile reassuringly but had the feeling he looked much like she did; completely unsure they had made the right decision. Or rather, that he had, since Ann had merely followed his lead. That fact, more than any other, was what forced a new breath of air into Kippei's lungs and steeled his determination as he stepped forward.

"Let's go, Ann."

Fudomine didn't get great grades when compared to the other schools. It had no sporting teams of great note, when compared to other schools. It didn't even look all that great, one of the older and more run down schools in an older part of the city. Compared to other schools, it looked like crap. But if you didn't compare, if you looked at it for what it was, and for where it was, and what it was designed to do, Kippei thought it a rather interesting school. When you looked at it that way it looked almost like a small slab of wonder in an otherwise grey world. When Tachibana Kippei had looked at Fudomine he had not compared it to anything but itself, and so here he was, hoping it would show him the same small mercy.

"Kippei, look!" The faint vein of excitement in Ann's voice was enough to tell him what his gaze would find. He turned to stare at the tennis courts, slightly run down but well kept and tidy, two freshman in white shirts raking up a pile of leaves by the court farthest from them, heads bowed. It didn't look like they were talking. The wind picked up and scattered the leaves further and the two seemed to slump a little more as a chill ran down Kippei's spine. It wasn't a cold day, merely mildly chill.

The office was empty save for the short little plump lade behind the front desk who took their names, directed them to sit in the waiting chairs and then proceeded to sit there for a full twenty minutes before she rang the principal and told him they were there. It was another fifteen minutes before he deigned to come and meet them. Even Ann was getting a little hot headed by then, casting glances at Kippei, trying to assure herself he still believed this was the best choice for them.

The Principal was a tall man and rake thin, the complete opposite of the woman at the desk. The contrast gave the whole meeting enough of a comical air that Kippei was able to shrug it off and accept his schedule gratefully. Of course, he also waited patiently through period one while they sent for someone to come and show him the way to his class. Someone came from Ann's class first, a slight girl with dark brown hair who smiled brightly and had an odd little skip to her walk. Kippei met Ann's gaze as they left and nodded; they would see each other at lunch. Everything would be alright. He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince but figured it probably didn't matter. It had been his decision.

The boy that sauntered into the office between periods was a little taller than Kippei with short cropped black hair and long bangs on either side of his face. He introduced himself but Kippei didn't quite get his name and didn't bother asking again. The guy talked about basketball all the way to their class and that was that. Kippei doubted he would be hanging with the guy much, never having had any interest in the sport.

The teacher made him do the typically embarrassing chore of introducing himself to the class. It would have been no different to normal except when he mentioned he played tennis and was interested in joining the club two of the guys at the back of the room snickered loudly and everyone else just looked bored. He didn't think my of it though, seating himself where the teacher directed and opening his book. He wasn't too far behind the class. A weekend of solid study and he could be ahead of them.

The bell rang in no time and he moved off to his next class. There was a rather polite guy who seemed to know everything staring out the window so Kippei asked him about the tennis club. The guy blinked three times before he took off his glasses and cleaned them off before telling Kippei he didn't play tennis. After that Kippei didn't bother much, just sat quietly through his classes before heading to the front yard where he had promised to meet Ann for lunch.

The first thing that surprised him was that Ann had company. The second thing that surprised him was that they were both boys. The third thing was that they both had tennis bags hanging off one shoulder.

"Kippei! Look what I found!" Ann grinned at him as he got closer and nodded a silent greeting. Ann seemed happy, relaxed. Like she was enjoying herself. It was the first time all day that Kippei thought he might have made the right choice. He hadn't seen her smile in a while.

"This is Uchimura Kyosuke, and Mori Tatsunori. They're both in most my classes, and they play tennis. Apparently. I haven't actually seen them play." Ann sniffed at this and the two boys rolled their eyes as if it were an argument they had been having all morning. It probably was, knowing Ann. He greeted them politely, a little curious as to what kind of tennis they played. He was not expecting anything great, judging by their size and lack of immediate interest, but he also knew appearances could be very deceiving.

"Would you mind playing a game with me during practice today, if it is permitted?" Kippei finally asked halfway through his sandwich. He looked from one boy's slack jaw to the other and raised a brow, then it hit him. First years. They probably weren't allowed to play. "Sorry."

They shrugged, as if it didn't bother them, but there was a stiffness to them after that and Kippei was not the only one to notice. Ann, also, was watching them carefully, chewing thoughtfully on her lunch. Kippei watched her with interest, knowing his sister was the best judge of character around. If she decided she liked the boys he knew he would too.

So he let them go after lunch and he sat quietly through the rest of the day. He didn't see them again until he walked into the tennis coach's filthy office and handed over his transfer papers, complete with a transcript of his success in tennis so far. The guy didn't even open it, just tossed it on his desk, turning back to the small group gathered before his desk.

"No, now go pick up balls." And they left, all seven little freshman, Ann's two friends from lunch among them. Kippei let that little scene play through his mind the whole time he changed, wondering what had been denied them. Wondering if they had papers like his that had never been read, talents like his that looked as though they would be ignored. Not that it really mattered, since it was what he had chosen. If he wanted recognition of what he could do, he would have chosen Seigaku or Yamabuki, not Fudomine.

The regulars were hitting balls. Everywhere. Anywhere but in the right direction. The ball boys, the same seven freshmen he had just seen in the coach's office were scrambling dejectedly over the court to collect them, tossing them back only to watch in dismay as they sailed as far as possible in the opposite direction. Kippei frowned but didn't say anything, just let it sink in. Absorbed the court and got to know it. Until he knew the court there was nothing he could do.

It was Uchimura who approached him, with a great deal more caution than he had during lunch, Kippei noted. He handed Kippei three balls and waited, face hidden below the rim of an old grey cap. The cap was well worn, filthy and looked comfortable. It was also a few sizes too big and Kippei wondered how long he had had it and how long he intended to keep it. Most of all he wondered if Uchimura wore it while he played and wished once again he could play a game. It wasn't as if the regulars looked like they were going to be a challenge of any sort.

He lobbed the ball across the net at the regular he was supposed to play a game with, and the guy actually snarled at him as he dodged out of the ball's way and then smacked the ball over the fence. Uchimura watched it go with an unreadable expression on the small part of his face that was visible, then he was jogging off the courts to fetch the ball. Kippei absorbed it, and his another ball at the regular, this time aiming directly between the guy's feet. The regular tripped over trying to get out of the way.

Deciding it was as good a way as any to pass the afternoon, since it didn't look like the coach was actually going to come and supervise them, Kippei started copying the regulars, hitting the balls in all directions, only rather than aiming as far away from the freshmen as possible, he aimed at the regulars directly, sending them scattering across the courts, cursing and yelling obscenities at him that he pretended not to hear. They were all useless. The tennis team was a joke. He wanted to play someone who knew how to actually hit the ball in the right direction.

In his frustration he hit the ball a little harder than he had intended and watched, a little dismayed, as it flew across the court, straight at a shocked regular's face. There was a quick blur of something, the racket seemed to disappear from the guy's hand, the ball was suddenly soaring off in a different direction and then the racket was back in the regular's hand and he saw a slight, red-headed freshman rushing after the ball. He couldn't help it he blinked.

"You should be more careful," a low, bored voice noted and he turned to find its source. "You could hit someone and get in trouble."

One of the freshmen, standing there, perfectly still, one hand outstretched with a ball in his hand. Kippei didn't say anything as the breeze whipped long blue-black hair across the face only to drop it back onto the shoulders again when it was done playing. Bored grey blinked lazily, contemplating, taking him in and Kippei had the odd feeling he was being judged. Then the boy was turning away, as if in disinterest but Kippei knew he was still watching, weighing, judging.

"Of course, you could just blame one of us. We must have damaged the ball when we picked it up, or given it to you the wrong way, or maybe we vandalized the rackets, or your shoes. Either way, the coach will believe you if you don't take the blame for it. We're only learning, so of course we would make mistakes, but it is the coach's job to make sure we don't make the mistakes again and again, so it's probably good if you tell on us when we make mistakes, even if they're not our mistakes, because who else would make them?" The voices trailed off, still mumbling, but so softly it was little more than air whispering between the pale lips and Kippei felt drawn to the small figure even as it walked away. He found himself gripping the ball the boy had given him tighter, trying to make sense of the words now racing around in his head.

Don't take the blame for it. What was that supposed to mean? Kippei was not the kind to blame others for his own follies. Yet the more he watched the practice the more he thought he might understand the softly spoken, bored warning. And he understood that his response to that warning would be the height by which he was measured. He doubted anyone on the court had passed the small test. By the time practice was over he was sure of it.

He dawdled after class, finding Ann by the courts watching, a slight frown on her face. He went and stood with her until the regulars had all left the change rooms and the freshmen started filing in, the calls finally collected and packed away neatly in the baskets. Only then did Kipei move off to change back into his ordinary uniform, watching the regulars go with more than a little hint of distaste in his expression.

The change room was duller and it took a minute to realize the freshmen had turned off one of the lights. They were sprawled out over the benches, kicking their shoes off in all directions, breathing much heavier than they had on the court and he realized they had been hiding it; hiding how tired they were. How much it hurt. How bored they really were.

He could hear the soft rumble of music and tracked it down to the small phones sticking out the red head's ears, the bare feet tapping on the cool floor as he pulled on his school shirt and did it up, oblivious to his surroundings. The tapping of the foot sounded oddly reminiscent of the ball hitting the court to Kippei.

Two of the taller freshmen were sitting together on a bench closer to the door, chattering about an assignment they were working on. Mori was nearby, doing up the laces on his shoes, already dressed back in his generic black uniform. Uchimura, sprawled on the bench at Mori's side, looked up from under his cap and raised an inquisitive brow at Kippei, still standing in the doorway.

"Well, how have you enjoyed your first day at Fudomine, Tachibana-san?" There was barely any interest in the question. It was a cynical, rhetorical question to which the boy thought he already knew the answer. Tachibana thought he was probably right, but that it was hard it know. He wasn't sure himself yet.

"It was educational," he replies stoically and Mori actually snorted in response. Uchimura shook his head and hid himself once again beneath the brim of his cap. The two by the door were finished, said their goodbyes, and left, not even waiting for a response. They were still talking about that assignment.

The red head was pulling on his black trousers and even in the pale light Kippei made out the dark bruise on one thigh. He frowned but said nothing as he pushed his way further into the change room to his own bag and began tugging his uniform out. It was only due to the fact he was so far back into the dark room that he was finally able to see the boy who had spoken to him on the court in the corner, in the red-head's shadow. Kippei didn't mean to watch, but as the boy tugged his shirt over his head Kippei stood, transfixed, eyes fastened to several dark bruises scattered across his back. Each was just large enough to have been a tennis ball and Kippei felt himself scowling, forcing himself to turn and change quickly.

He managed to finish up just as the red-head was tapping on his friend's shoulder and hauling him from the room. Kippei found himself hurrying after them, though he could not say why. Something just told him he had to. Had to answer the challenge, even if he didn't quite know how.

He could have kissed Ann when she called out not to him, but to the boys.

"Oi, Kamio!"

Kippei watched, a little amused, as the boy with the long, dark hair slammed an elbow unceremoniously into the red-head's ribs at the same time he yanked out an earphone, awarded with a loud, indignant squawk and a glare that Kippei thought probably should have killed.

Ann was laughing. It was the first time in a long time and Kippei smiled to see at as he took the last few steps to her side. Kamio turned his glare from his friend to Kippei then and there was something more than malicious in the glare.

"Next time watch where you're hitting." Kippei had no illusions that it might not be the threat that it was. For whatever reason, his almost hitting one of the regulars was personal, and when Kippei thought about the fact one of the freshman probably would have been blamed for it he thought he might just understand why, so he didn't argue, merely nodded his agreement. Next time he would be very careful.

Because he knew the court now and had decided he didn't like it. Yet.

Ann cleared he throat, giving them both a pointed glare. Kippei schooled his face into a more neutral expression, aware that the soft grey stare was once again on him. He wondered what it saw, when it looked at him.

"This is my brother, Tachibana Kippei. This is Kamio Akira," she indicated the red-head who just nodded before pointing to the other. "And Ibu Shinji."

Ibu Shinji. The name nagged at Kippei's mind though he knew he had never heard it before. It was like the school, pulling him in, begging him to see it for what it was while all it ever showed was a blank slate, a used, bored façade. Kippei had never wanted to know anything the way he suddenly wanted to know Ibu Shinji and the realization shocked him to the core. It made no sense, and he rarely liked anything that didn't make sense. He rarely liked anything, except tennis and his family, and wasn't that just what had gotten him into this mess to begin with? He needed to care; had to like something, or there wasn't much point to anything. Was there?

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Kippei said softly and was rewarded with a derisive snort from Kamio.

"Oh, the pleasure is all ours, I'm sure," Kamio noted sarcastically, rolling his eyes and already moving off toward the school gates. Shinji didn't say a word to them, just shrugged, still bored, and followed his friend. Kippei felt something he would almost have thought was jealousy if he hadn't only just met the boy, wishing Ibu Shinji was following him instead.

"They're in your class too?"

Ann made an odd affirmative sound in the back of her throat. It was odd enough that it made Kippei look across at her. There was the light in her eyes that she usually had when she was excited as she watched her two new friends walking off, heading home, wherever that was and they started to do the same, only in the opposite direction.

"There's a lot of talk among the first year's," Ann noted, lips upturned in a mischievous grin.

"Oh?"

"Apparently the coach promised the first years they could be regulars if they beat the current lot. Supposedly they should have been regulars today."

Kippei stared down at her, stunned. The first years had beaten the regulars? Then why weren't they wearing the uniforms? He remembered the conversation he had interrupted, the finality of the coach's `no'. Had that been him reneging on his promise? Had that been the cause of the menacing air swallowing it all?

"Did they really win?"

"Well," Ann hummed pleasantly to herself. "Yes. The worst score was 6-2 and that was from Sakurai, the big buy with the sandy brown hair."

The worst? Tachibana wasn't sure what to make of that, but it was food for thought. Thought for many days that passed in much the same fashion as his first day had with only one notable difference. No matter where he went, who he went with, his eyes would stray in search of the freshmen tennis players, and in particular in search of the slight form of Ibu Shinji.

Each afternoon he would try to maneuver himself into a position on the court Shinji was assigned and he would wait at the end until Shinji went inside the changerooms and then he would seek out the same corner, watching from the corner of his eye and always disappointed when no words came forth, no sound was passed in his direction. It was if he were not there, that Ibu Shinji had blocked him completely from existence and for all Kippei knew he just might have.

Every night he would probe Ann for more stories she had gathered throughout the day on the freshmen tennis players and with every day they fascinated him more until at last, he stood at practice, watching the regulars beat up on the freshmen and hitting the balls over the fence in the typical fashion and it was finally too much. He didn't want to blame anyone else; he wanted to blame those responsible. He wanted to accept Ibu Shinji's challenge and have that voice speak to him again; have the eyes see him. Wanted it like he hadn't wanted anything in a long time.

So he demanded they face him; play him. Defeat him, knowing full well they would not. Could not. The only ones who might be capable of that were not allowed to play and that had to change. He wasn't surprised when they slunk away like cowards and when he turned to look at the freshmen and finally offer a challenge of his own it felt good. More than good. It felt right. Like it meant something. He hadn't done anything that meant something in years.

It didn't surprise him when all the freshmen stepped forward. Could they beat him? Did they thing they were better than him? At that moment they had had days to study his own tennis style, had no doubt figured out exactly who he was and discovered his weaknesses. They would know how to perfectly adapt their own styles while he had no idea how they played. They had the advantage. At that moment, yes, they could probably beat him. Yes, they were better than him. For a brief moment. It was a moment long enough for them to step forward.

The first step was Kamio's and it was enough to tell Kippei who the leader of the group was, though he had already suspected it from the way they all interacted both on and off the courts. Where Kamio went it seemed Shinji went and the others followed their lead. He had a team; seven players, no spare wheel. It was more than he should have asked for and all he wanted. He spent the afternoon talking to them about making their own team, only slightly disappointed when Ibu Shinji still didn't speak to him.

He was more than a little surprised when Shinji went home early and left Kamio to speak to Kippei alone. Kamio studied him carefully, eyes narrowed as he tapped his foot to music only he could hear.

"Don't stuff this up, Tachibana-san. Take it all the way, or let me call them now and tell them its not happening."

Kippei blinked and then nodded. He didn't need to tell Kamio not to call them. He would go all the way, but not for the reason Kamio thought. He wasn't even sure himself what his exact reasons for, there were more than he had thought there would be. It just seemed important, in a lot of ways.

So when the coach said no the next day. When he endured the beating handing out by the rest of the regulars and heard him laugh in their faces for their suffering; when he fully understood what it meant to be a member of his new team, he snapped. All the rage he had been holding at bay, all the fury at the pointlessness of life was overshadowed and taken over by the realization that he had at least had the chance to try; to try to make it mean something. Here, that was denied and the man responsible was just standing there, laughing.

So Kippei stopped him. Halted the laughter. He knew what it would mean, knew they would have to withdraw from the upcoming tournament, but he didn't care. They would rise above the stigma, have their own team, win through to whatever dream they imagined, just as soon as he got rid of that horrible laughter.

And he did. He just didn't expect the others to join him in the attempt. Most of all, when the coach's fist headed for his face, he expected it to collide. With his own face, not Ibu Shinji's. How the boy had gotten between them, and how he simply absorbed the impact and snapped his fist back like some weird snake to return the favor Kippei didn't know, but it was the first indication he was given that Shinji really was more than he seemed. There was an awareness of movement in his eyes when they met Kippei's; a full circle observance of their circumstances that gave him the impression Shinji was in complete control. If that was transferred onto the tennis court Kippei wasn't sure what Ibu Shinji might do.

What kind of monster he could become.

There were teachers, and police, ambulances and distraught parents. Kippei watched it all from Shinji's side, very much aware there were no parents named Ibu. They were not charged, not arrested, but they were questioned. There would be an inquiry into the incident but the police doubted anything would come of it after hearing their story. They would be charged with delinquency, but they didn't lock people up for that anymore.

His father came to pick him up, and waited with him for the rest of the team's parents to arrive until at last he was standing alone with Shinji in the doorway of the change room doorway, staring at a sky turned dark, a night closing in and he sighed, shifting closer, wanting to reach out, wanting to say something, anything, remembering the way Shinji had pushed him back, out of the way, and taken care of things.

"Your parents aren't coming, are they?" Kippei didn't turn to see what flickered across the pale face, leaving him that small privacy.

"No," was the soft reply and it was the first word Shinji had spoken to him since his arrival at Fudomine. It sent a shiver through him unlike any he had felt before and he forced himself to turn back into the change room to the cupboard. He took out the first aid kit and pulled Shinji inside, pushing him down onto a bench and finally reaching out, holding the chin still as he forced Shinji to look at him and inspected the damage.

A bruise was blooming on the cheekbone and the skin was split, blood smeared across the pale skin but it had stopped bleeding some time ago, so Kippei cleaned it off with a damp towel and put a band aid over it. There were other small grazes and Kippei was slightly unnerved as he found each of them and carefully took care of them one at a time, as if it were his child, or his brother, or his friend, none of which he had ever had before. But he didn't want Shinji to be any of things, was more than a little tired when he realized he wanted Shinji to be something more and doubted Shinji would ever really understand that desire. Shinji himself was staring at Kippei's hands, gaze fixed to the digits that caressed his skin a little more than they probably should have, warmed his blood more than anything else could have and unbeknown to Kippei he wasn't afraid of those hands as he had been in the beginning.

Kippei reached out and let his thumb trail over the band aid across the darkened cheek, glad it had happened, but at the same time wishing it hadn't because he knew it had to hurt.

"Thank you, Shinji."

Shinji's eyes widened a little, but Kippei didn't wait to see what his reaction might be, standing and picking up his bags.

"My family would be more than happy to have you tonight, if you would like."

There was no response and Kippei sighed a little in disappointment as he headed for the door. He was completely unprepared for the arms that slipped under his own and wrapped themselves tight across his gut, nor for the gentle push of Shinji's face into the space between his shoulder blades, soft breath whispering through his shirt. He certainly wasn't ready for the shudder that ran through both their limbs at the contact and he finally wondered if maybe there hadn't been a reason for Shinji's silence after all. Maybe he hadn't known what to say. Either. Hadn't wanted to blame himself. Either.

He let his hands fall to Shinji's and wrapped his fingers about Shinji's, gently prying him loose, unable to keep the smile from quirking his lips as he picked up Shinji's bag as well.

"Let's go."

Shinji didn't say anything, just followed him outside; began the small journey of following him home and Kippei was able to admit he had been jealous, because he wasn't anymore.

His father took one look at the way Kippei was clutching Shinji's hand and just smiled knowingly. Kippei didn't argue as they were all led to the car. Ann was there, waiting, looking more than a little curious and not a bit anxious. She hugged him when he was close enough, realized he had Shinji with him and hugged him too. Shinji just stared at her as if she had lost her mind and let Kippei yank him into the car.

"A friend?" His father asked when they were halfway home. Kippei just smiled and nodded, knowing his father didn't care what kind of friend. In the Tachibana family any kind of friend had always been rare, to put it mildly. That Kippei had chosen to bring anyone at all home was a first. For that alone Kippei was confident Shinji would be welcome in his family.

Shinji looked out the window the whole way home, watching the streets flicker by and Kippei had the feeling he could probably recite every street they had passed in the correct order; Shinji was so obviously memorizing the way to Kippei's house and it just felt right so Kippei didn't interrupt him, wanting Shinji to know.

He took the time to get to know Shinji's hand; to know the weight of it, the scattered few scars across it, the small calluses on the fingers and the spaces between each slender finger. They were surprisingly small hands, but effective, adept and the skin was smooth and pale and Kippei liked it. He held onto it even after they pulled up in the garage at his house and he used it to tug Shinji to his bedroom, sharing a knowing look with Ann to make sure she wouldn't follow.

Shinji's gaze swept over the room and Tachibana felt a twinge of unease, momentarily worried Shinji wouldn't like it; would find a reason there to not like him, but his fear was unfounded as a small twitch of Shinji's lips broke the stoic mask and Shinji turned to look at him instead of the room.

"Your parents don't mind," Shinji noted. "Neither do mine. Of course, they would have to actually care in order to mind." There was no bitterness to it, which seemed odd to Kippei. It was merely a statement of fact; a thing Shinji perceived to be true and hence, whether it actually was or not did not matter, because it always would be in Shinji's world. That was true enough, in Kippei's opinion.

Kippei didn't say anything, unsure once again what to say, slightly amused at how tong tied he seemed to become when he was actually near Shinji yet very much aware of the odd things he thought of saying to Shinji when the boy was nowhere to be found. So rather than having to think of something to say he fished through his drawers until he found a pair of pajamas he thought would fit Shinji and tossed them over, then took him to one of the showers and left him there to clean himself up while he went to his parents shower and bathed there.

He was faster than usual, yet Shinji was already sitting on his windowsill and looking out the window when he got back to his room, hair wet and dripping over the shoulders of his shirt. Kippei smiled at the sight and walked over to snatch a lock of sticky, dark hair, wrapping it about his finger and inhaling the clean scent of soap and Shinji. It was the scent that had accompanied that first meeting, on the courts, but he only just noticed. Was only now allowed close enough.

"Do you like the night?" Kippei wanted to know what things Shinji liked, what things he hated, what he liked to do, and what he wouldn't do if you paid him. He wanted to know everything, but knew that would take a long time. He wasn't sure what he thought about that.

"Everything looks better when you can't see it properly," Shinji whispered and turned to face Kippei, watching, not leaning or asking for anything. Just watching, and waiting. Challenging Kippei to see him properly.

Kippei slipped his hand behind Shinji's neck and used it to propel him to the bed, pushing down on his shoulders to make him sit and then walking around the other side to climb under the sheets. Shinji sat there, just staring at him again, weighing and deciding until at last he pulled back the sheets and got in the bed, lying down on his side and staring at Kippei.

It was more than a little unnerving, if Kippei was honest, but he liked it too. Liked that he didn't really understand it but could still see it clearly. And one day he would understand; he would see and know everything, and it was enough, to know it would be one day.

It was enough to know he had come looking for a reason to leave, to drop it all, to forget, to put it all behind him. He had gone to Fudomine to forget who he was on the court, to try and change who he had been despite how impossible it seemed. He'd gone for a lot of things and failed in most of them. Instead, he had found a team, friends, laughter for his sister and if he had his way Ibu Shinji for himself.

He'd come for a reason to leave, but…

Shinji's eyes closed and the face settled into a relaxed, real version of the person underneath, a faint smile smudging it all. Kippei shifted closer and picked up the slender hand he already knew he liked too much and held onto it, letting himself fall.

He'd found a reason to stay.