Been thinking about this....
So, yeah, it's about time to update this.
This time: A look at Eiji's most frustrating day - and the beginning of a change no one who knows him likes much at all (except for one, and he's... the reason).
Eiji had noticed that the students avoided the table in the back corner of the cafeteria, and so, one day when it was empty, he sat there and opened his lunch.
"Excuse me," a rather timid voice said, and he looked up. A boy his age stood near by, lunch box in hand, looking both frightened and a little belligerent. "This is our table." Behind him stood another boy and two girls, all trying to hide the despair on their faces.
Eiji blinked. "Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...." He trailed off. "Then sit down," he went on. "May I join you?"
The first boy set his lunch down across the table and down a ways, gesturing at his friends to join him. "Only if you want to commit social suicide."
Eiji shrugged - that was exactly what he was looking for. "Your table looks peaceful," was all he said.
One of the girls set her lunch down across from the first boy, some distance from Eiji. "We won't sit too close," she said bitterly.
Eiji shrugged again. "It makes no difference to me. But if I make you uncomfortable, I can go."
They all four stared at him. "You're new here," the other girl said, sitting next to the first girl.
"Yes."
There was a flurry of whispers as the second boy joined them, then the first boy looked at him. "You can stay, if you like."
Eiji nodded. "Thank you."
He was never one of them - but they gradually seemed to get used to him. There was, though, always that space between him and them (and he sometimes wondered what the people who looked at him thought about it).
And then one day -
"Move," an authoritative voice said, and Eiji looked up from his History assignment.
Kirihara Akaya stood at the other end of the table, glaring at the four who sat there.
"Why should they?" Eiji asked, even as the four began to pack up their lunches. They froze, turning to stare at him.
"Because I want to talk to you." He sounded like a whiny child.
"Your ego may take up the whole table," Eiji said caustically, "but you don't. They were here first. If you want to say something to me, sit there." He pointed to the spot across from him. "And leave them alone."
All five of them stared at him.
"But...." Kirihara started.
Eiji had just about had enough of this idiot upstart - and Eiji was the elder here. "Frankly," he said icily, "I don't really want to speak to you, and nothing you have to say interests me." Somewhere in the back of his head, Eiji wondered if he was somehow channeling Atobe, of all people.
Kirihara's eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me that you would rather..." he started.
"I wouldn't finish that, unless you really want to be embarrassed," Eiji interrupted.
He glared into Kirihara's eyes, and soon enough the younger boy turned away, scowling.
"Do you know who that was?"
Eiji had no idea who had asked him that - well, no idea what his name was - but he shrugged. "Yes. Kirihara Akaya."
"He's one of the best players on the tennis team," one of the girls said in a hushed whisper.
"He purposefully injures more honorable opponents than he'll ever be," Eiji told them.
Kirihara spun, eyes blazing in fury. "Just because your precious tensai...."
"I wasn't talking about Fuji," Eiji interrupted icily. Kirihara merely stared at him in vague incomprehension, and Eiji shook his head. "Have you injured that many?" he taunted, and Kirihara's scowl only deepened.
"Yanagi-san," the other girl said, but she sounded almost... welcoming.
Eiji stiffened, and caught the smirk on Kirihara's face - certainly thinking Eiji was frightened of his advance.
"Enough, Kirihara," Yanagi said from right behind Eiji, and Eiji sighed softly. The table was not the refuge he'd hoped.
To his relief, however, Kirihara walked away, still scowling, and Yanagi said nothing as he sat down at the other end of the table and took a paper from the girl who'd greeted him. After a moment, Eiji gathered his books and left anyway. He didn't want to give Yanagi the chance to talk to him.
Back in his classroom, Eiji sat down, arranged his books, and then turned his attention back to his History assignment.
"You provoked Kirihara," Yagyuu said quietly.
"Not without cause." Eiji turned to look at him, not caring when the other boy had come in, furious still from that confrontation. "Do you people not speak to each other?" he hissed, to keep the conversation private between them. "I thought I made it clear to three different people, all of them with some authority, I thought, that I wanted to be left alone."
"You've made enemies," Yagyuu said.
"Tell them," Eiji said, his voice shaking, "that I flourish with attention. And if they don't believe that, tell them to check with Yanagi. I'm sure he knows."
The teacher walked into the room, then, saving Eiji from having to hear whatever the Tennis player might say in response. But he was unable to calm down, both confrontations playing over and over in his head through the rest of the day, so he went to his club meeting long enough to give an excuse for his absence, and stalked out of the school without knowing where he was headed, exactly.
He found himself in front of Seigaku some hours later - not surprised, really - and made his way toward the tennis courts. He didn't know why, except some vague hope that maybe the team would be there.
But no cheerful pok pok of tennis balls greeted him, and the courts were deserted. Was he that late? Had they finished for the year, maybe?
"Watch where you're going, stupid viper!" Momo shouted, and Eiji turned away, suddenly embarrassed to be caught in the wrong school uniform. He quickly pulled the tie off and stuffed it in his bag, even as he moved to keep the two arguing (one of them merely hissing his responses) second years out of sight. He stood still, hoping he was hidden enough by the bare branches, and watched them leave. Then came the rest. Inui was writing something as he walked next to Taka, who looked happy. Oishi and Fuji came out next, heads together, and Eiji couldn't make himself move or even say anything to catch their attention. Echizen was next, his three faithful followers behind, and last came Tezuka.
"Saa, Eiji, I almost didn't see you there."
Eiji jumped and spun, staring open mouthed at his best friend, who's smile faded. "Where," Eiji stammered. "I-I just...."
Fuji reached up and brushed a thumb across Eiji's cheekbone. "Eiji. What's wrong?"
"What?" Eiji wiped at his own cheeks, surprised to find them wet. "Oh." He swallowed it down - someday he was going to die of all the poison he'd swallowed since his father had left - and shrugged. "I got homesick. And then realized how dumb it was to show up in a Rikkaidai uniform."
"I don't have your racquets yet," Fuji told him.
"It's not important," Eiji said. "I was informed today that I'd made enemies - all of them in the club - so even if I wanted to join, it would be a bad idea."
Fuji regarded him seriously. "Who?"
Eiji shrugged. "I ignored Niou. I told Marui I wasn't looking for a friend. I told Kirihara I'd rather sit with the school outcasts than him." He sighed. "I told Sanada it would be a cold day in hell before I joined the team. I talked to Yagyuu without looking at him - it bothered him. And then I told him now they could all make my life worse."
Fuji's eyes opened. "What? What did you say?"
They'd started walking toward the front gate some time in the middle of Eiji's recitation. "That I flourish with attention." His lips twisted wryly. "Certainly Yanagi has that much data on me. I suggested they check with him."
Fuji looked at him. "Very devious. Will it help?"
Eiji sighed wearily. "I hope so. I'm tired, Fuji. I'm sick and tired."
"Of?"
"Everything. I still don't know what my father wants. I don't see him enough to ask." He let out a sudden, choked laugh. "You should have heard me talking to Kirihara today. I thought I was channeling Atobe or something. I didn't sound like me."
Fuji grinned at him, but the smile straightened out very quickly. "How do you like it?"
Ahead of them, at the gate, Eiji could see Oishi waiting for them, and his throat constricted so tight that he couldn't speak for a moment. "I hate it," he finally said. "But it's just a school. I'd rather go back to Fudomine, if I couldn't come here." He knew it didn't make sense. "I could probably even stand Mizuki better than the whole Rikkaidai tennis club." Then he sighed. "I'd probably hate any school that wasn't this one."
They passed through the gates and Oishi fell into step on Eiji's other side. "I miss our club - even Momo and Kaidoh fighting, Horio's superiority complex, everything. I just got homesick."
"Why not go home?" Oishi asked.
"I don't know where that is," he said quietly. "They moved, but I don't have the address with me."
His cell phone - a relatively new thing - rang, and he dug into his bag to find it, flipping it open without checking who had called. "Hello?"
"Where are you?" his father demanded.
Eiji blinked, startled. It was the first time his father had actually tried to contact him. "Out with friends."
"You're supposed to be here."
Eiji stopped walking. "I am? Why?"
There was silence on the other end of the line. "You were told there was a dinner to attend tonight."
"When? By whom?" Eiji asked.
"I told you last Sunday."
"I haven't seen you for three weeks," Eiji said softly.
His father was quiet for a long time. "I'll send Okita to pick you up with a change of clothes. You can meet me there."
Eiji sighed. "Yes, sir."
"She'll call you for directions." He hung up.
Eiji shut his own phone and tucked it into a pocket. "I guess I have to go," he said.
"Your father?" Oishi asked.
"Yeah."
"Eiji," Fuji said seriously. "Call me tonight when you get home."
"I don't know when...."
"It doesn't matter how late," Fuji assured him.
"She won't be here for a while," Eiji said randomly.
The three of them kept walking, talking together about what was going on, the exams still looming, and about whatever else came to mind. The only interruption came from the second call to Eiji, and half an hour later, a dark sedan pulled up next to them.
"Don't forget to call," Fuji said as Eiji got in the back seat.
"I won't," Eiji promised, closed the door, and the car pulled away.
"Your father is angry," Okita told him neutrally as Eiji changed into the suit he found on the seat next to him.
Eiji said nothing. There wasn't much he could say, in fact. And even more interesting - sort of - was that he honestly didn't care. Once he'd changed out of his school uniform, he straightened up and lay his head on the back of the seat. "What is this... dinner for?"
"It's an informal get-together of a group your father has joined."
"Where?"
She named a restaurant Eiji had never heard of. "Oh. Thank you." Then after a moment, Eiji sat forward again. "Why does he want me to be there?"
He caught her startled look at him in the rearview mirror, but before she could answer, the car slowed and stopped. Eiji got out, glanced around, and spotted his father standing just inside the door of a very fancy-looking restaurant.
The dinner was long and boring, full of talk that Eiji didn't understand. There were other boys there - he thought he was close to the youngest - all of them appearing, at least, to listen intently to what their fathers and the older men were saying.
"So, Kikumaru-san, this is the son you're training," an arrogant voice said, and Eiji looked up, startled. The man standing by his father's chair was familiar, but Eiji was sure he'd never seen him.
"Ore-sama is surprised to see you," he heard next, and sighed.
Oh. Atobe Keigo's father. Of course.
"I'm surprised to be seen," Eiji said, turning to the other boy.
"Your first time," Atobe observed, sliding into the seat next to Eiji. "Why is that?"
"Too many reasons to enumerate," Eiji said, still feeling uncomfortable.
"Ore-sama heard a rumor about you."
"Oh?" He couldn't even feign interest.
"Did you really alienate the whole Rikkaidai tennis club?"
Eiji snorted softly. "I haven't spoken to Jackal yet. Or he hasn't tried to speak to me."
Atobe's eyes lit up. "You did. Ore-sama finds that very... odd. And refreshing."
Eiji shrugged. "I might have done the same, had I ended up at Hyotei. Although," he added before Atobe could respond, "at least your club has some honor."
"Naturally," Atobe said with a smirk. "Ore-sama is captain."
"Exactly. But really, it doesn't matter. I don't play any more."
"Mukahi will be disappointed."
"He'll get over it." Eiji was tired beyond belief; his run-in with Kirihara and Yagyuu had drained him completely. "My apologies, Atobe. I would much prefer to be left alone for as long as I can manage it."
With a smirk, Atobe inclined his head, got to his feet, and went to speak with someone else. Eiji relaxed - as much as he could.
On the way home, however, his father railed at him, about how ashamed he was, how embarrassed he was, and how Eiji had so completely let him down.
Eiji just listened quietly, staring out the windshield. Finally, as they neared the street on which they lived, his father wound down. "Have you nothing to say?" he asked.
"Why did I have to find out from Atobe-san that you decided I would follow your footsteps?" Eiji asked dully.
"Why do you think I brought you to live with me?"
"I don't know," Eiji said. "You haven't even said why you abandoned us, never mind why you picked me to live with you. You do know that Ichiro would have been a better choice, right? He's studying for it." Eiji was just tired. He no longer even cared if he was being rude. "And if you plan on having me attend things with you, please let me know...."
"I told you on Sunday," his father snarled.
"When?" Eiji asked.
"At dinner."
"You weren't there for dinner," Eiji said softly. "I ate alone."
His father looked at him; catching the look out of the corner of his eye, Eiji turned to look back. "I don't really want to do this," he said. "You have sons better prepared, who are interested."
"Who do not know Atobe Keigo."
Eiji turned back to look out the windshield again. "I see. I'm a pawn, am I?"
He didn't miss the startled look his father shot him as they pulled into the drive. Eiji got out and followed his father into the house. He just wanted to sleep.
That was not to be; his father came into his room as he hung up the white shirt of his uniform, and he turned to face him. "Yes, father?"
The man's expression was stony. "Okita said she picked you up near Seigaku."
"Yes, sir. I went to see my friends."
"Why?"
"Because I miss them."
His father took a deep breath, eyes narrowed. "Let me make myself very clear. You will not return there, as long as you're in this house."
Eiji stared at him. "Why not?" he asked. It was just one more thing, one more poison to swallow.
"There are people better for you to associate with at Rikkaidai."
"I heard you," Eiji said bitterly after a moment. "Boasting of your son, the Nationals level tennis player. And yet you won't let me associate with the team or the doubles partner who helped me get there! It doesn't make sense!"
The next thing Eiji knew, he was bent over his desk, and his father's belt fell once - twice - three times across his bare back. His father jerked him upright again, fingers digging into Eiji's arm. "Do as you're told," his father said evenly.
Eiji stared at him in disbelief, stunned, on his feet by sheer will power. He would not show how much that had hurt, both the blows and the rest of the whole evening. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, eyes fixed on his father's chin.
As soon as his father was gone, Eiji changed into his pajamas, crawled into bed, and called Fuji, praying to anyone who would listen that it would be a short conversation.
Next time: The change begins - and Fuji has an uncomfortable conversation with Atobe.
This time: A look at Eiji's most frustrating day - and the beginning of a change no one who knows him likes much at all (except for one, and he's... the reason).
Eiji had noticed that the students avoided the table in the back corner of the cafeteria, and so, one day when it was empty, he sat there and opened his lunch.
"Excuse me," a rather timid voice said, and he looked up. A boy his age stood near by, lunch box in hand, looking both frightened and a little belligerent. "This is our table." Behind him stood another boy and two girls, all trying to hide the despair on their faces.
Eiji blinked. "Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...." He trailed off. "Then sit down," he went on. "May I join you?"
The first boy set his lunch down across the table and down a ways, gesturing at his friends to join him. "Only if you want to commit social suicide."
Eiji shrugged - that was exactly what he was looking for. "Your table looks peaceful," was all he said.
One of the girls set her lunch down across from the first boy, some distance from Eiji. "We won't sit too close," she said bitterly.
Eiji shrugged again. "It makes no difference to me. But if I make you uncomfortable, I can go."
They all four stared at him. "You're new here," the other girl said, sitting next to the first girl.
"Yes."
There was a flurry of whispers as the second boy joined them, then the first boy looked at him. "You can stay, if you like."
Eiji nodded. "Thank you."
He was never one of them - but they gradually seemed to get used to him. There was, though, always that space between him and them (and he sometimes wondered what the people who looked at him thought about it).
And then one day -
"Move," an authoritative voice said, and Eiji looked up from his History assignment.
Kirihara Akaya stood at the other end of the table, glaring at the four who sat there.
"Why should they?" Eiji asked, even as the four began to pack up their lunches. They froze, turning to stare at him.
"Because I want to talk to you." He sounded like a whiny child.
"Your ego may take up the whole table," Eiji said caustically, "but you don't. They were here first. If you want to say something to me, sit there." He pointed to the spot across from him. "And leave them alone."
All five of them stared at him.
"But...." Kirihara started.
Eiji had just about had enough of this idiot upstart - and Eiji was the elder here. "Frankly," he said icily, "I don't really want to speak to you, and nothing you have to say interests me." Somewhere in the back of his head, Eiji wondered if he was somehow channeling Atobe, of all people.
Kirihara's eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me that you would rather..." he started.
"I wouldn't finish that, unless you really want to be embarrassed," Eiji interrupted.
He glared into Kirihara's eyes, and soon enough the younger boy turned away, scowling.
"Do you know who that was?"
Eiji had no idea who had asked him that - well, no idea what his name was - but he shrugged. "Yes. Kirihara Akaya."
"He's one of the best players on the tennis team," one of the girls said in a hushed whisper.
"He purposefully injures more honorable opponents than he'll ever be," Eiji told them.
Kirihara spun, eyes blazing in fury. "Just because your precious tensai...."
"I wasn't talking about Fuji," Eiji interrupted icily. Kirihara merely stared at him in vague incomprehension, and Eiji shook his head. "Have you injured that many?" he taunted, and Kirihara's scowl only deepened.
"Yanagi-san," the other girl said, but she sounded almost... welcoming.
Eiji stiffened, and caught the smirk on Kirihara's face - certainly thinking Eiji was frightened of his advance.
"Enough, Kirihara," Yanagi said from right behind Eiji, and Eiji sighed softly. The table was not the refuge he'd hoped.
To his relief, however, Kirihara walked away, still scowling, and Yanagi said nothing as he sat down at the other end of the table and took a paper from the girl who'd greeted him. After a moment, Eiji gathered his books and left anyway. He didn't want to give Yanagi the chance to talk to him.
Back in his classroom, Eiji sat down, arranged his books, and then turned his attention back to his History assignment.
"You provoked Kirihara," Yagyuu said quietly.
"Not without cause." Eiji turned to look at him, not caring when the other boy had come in, furious still from that confrontation. "Do you people not speak to each other?" he hissed, to keep the conversation private between them. "I thought I made it clear to three different people, all of them with some authority, I thought, that I wanted to be left alone."
"You've made enemies," Yagyuu said.
"Tell them," Eiji said, his voice shaking, "that I flourish with attention. And if they don't believe that, tell them to check with Yanagi. I'm sure he knows."
The teacher walked into the room, then, saving Eiji from having to hear whatever the Tennis player might say in response. But he was unable to calm down, both confrontations playing over and over in his head through the rest of the day, so he went to his club meeting long enough to give an excuse for his absence, and stalked out of the school without knowing where he was headed, exactly.
He found himself in front of Seigaku some hours later - not surprised, really - and made his way toward the tennis courts. He didn't know why, except some vague hope that maybe the team would be there.
But no cheerful pok pok of tennis balls greeted him, and the courts were deserted. Was he that late? Had they finished for the year, maybe?
"Watch where you're going, stupid viper!" Momo shouted, and Eiji turned away, suddenly embarrassed to be caught in the wrong school uniform. He quickly pulled the tie off and stuffed it in his bag, even as he moved to keep the two arguing (one of them merely hissing his responses) second years out of sight. He stood still, hoping he was hidden enough by the bare branches, and watched them leave. Then came the rest. Inui was writing something as he walked next to Taka, who looked happy. Oishi and Fuji came out next, heads together, and Eiji couldn't make himself move or even say anything to catch their attention. Echizen was next, his three faithful followers behind, and last came Tezuka.
"Saa, Eiji, I almost didn't see you there."
Eiji jumped and spun, staring open mouthed at his best friend, who's smile faded. "Where," Eiji stammered. "I-I just...."
Fuji reached up and brushed a thumb across Eiji's cheekbone. "Eiji. What's wrong?"
"What?" Eiji wiped at his own cheeks, surprised to find them wet. "Oh." He swallowed it down - someday he was going to die of all the poison he'd swallowed since his father had left - and shrugged. "I got homesick. And then realized how dumb it was to show up in a Rikkaidai uniform."
"I don't have your racquets yet," Fuji told him.
"It's not important," Eiji said. "I was informed today that I'd made enemies - all of them in the club - so even if I wanted to join, it would be a bad idea."
Fuji regarded him seriously. "Who?"
Eiji shrugged. "I ignored Niou. I told Marui I wasn't looking for a friend. I told Kirihara I'd rather sit with the school outcasts than him." He sighed. "I told Sanada it would be a cold day in hell before I joined the team. I talked to Yagyuu without looking at him - it bothered him. And then I told him now they could all make my life worse."
Fuji's eyes opened. "What? What did you say?"
They'd started walking toward the front gate some time in the middle of Eiji's recitation. "That I flourish with attention." His lips twisted wryly. "Certainly Yanagi has that much data on me. I suggested they check with him."
Fuji looked at him. "Very devious. Will it help?"
Eiji sighed wearily. "I hope so. I'm tired, Fuji. I'm sick and tired."
"Of?"
"Everything. I still don't know what my father wants. I don't see him enough to ask." He let out a sudden, choked laugh. "You should have heard me talking to Kirihara today. I thought I was channeling Atobe or something. I didn't sound like me."
Fuji grinned at him, but the smile straightened out very quickly. "How do you like it?"
Ahead of them, at the gate, Eiji could see Oishi waiting for them, and his throat constricted so tight that he couldn't speak for a moment. "I hate it," he finally said. "But it's just a school. I'd rather go back to Fudomine, if I couldn't come here." He knew it didn't make sense. "I could probably even stand Mizuki better than the whole Rikkaidai tennis club." Then he sighed. "I'd probably hate any school that wasn't this one."
They passed through the gates and Oishi fell into step on Eiji's other side. "I miss our club - even Momo and Kaidoh fighting, Horio's superiority complex, everything. I just got homesick."
"Why not go home?" Oishi asked.
"I don't know where that is," he said quietly. "They moved, but I don't have the address with me."
His cell phone - a relatively new thing - rang, and he dug into his bag to find it, flipping it open without checking who had called. "Hello?"
"Where are you?" his father demanded.
Eiji blinked, startled. It was the first time his father had actually tried to contact him. "Out with friends."
"You're supposed to be here."
Eiji stopped walking. "I am? Why?"
There was silence on the other end of the line. "You were told there was a dinner to attend tonight."
"When? By whom?" Eiji asked.
"I told you last Sunday."
"I haven't seen you for three weeks," Eiji said softly.
His father was quiet for a long time. "I'll send Okita to pick you up with a change of clothes. You can meet me there."
Eiji sighed. "Yes, sir."
"She'll call you for directions." He hung up.
Eiji shut his own phone and tucked it into a pocket. "I guess I have to go," he said.
"Your father?" Oishi asked.
"Yeah."
"Eiji," Fuji said seriously. "Call me tonight when you get home."
"I don't know when...."
"It doesn't matter how late," Fuji assured him.
"She won't be here for a while," Eiji said randomly.
The three of them kept walking, talking together about what was going on, the exams still looming, and about whatever else came to mind. The only interruption came from the second call to Eiji, and half an hour later, a dark sedan pulled up next to them.
"Don't forget to call," Fuji said as Eiji got in the back seat.
"I won't," Eiji promised, closed the door, and the car pulled away.
"Your father is angry," Okita told him neutrally as Eiji changed into the suit he found on the seat next to him.
Eiji said nothing. There wasn't much he could say, in fact. And even more interesting - sort of - was that he honestly didn't care. Once he'd changed out of his school uniform, he straightened up and lay his head on the back of the seat. "What is this... dinner for?"
"It's an informal get-together of a group your father has joined."
"Where?"
She named a restaurant Eiji had never heard of. "Oh. Thank you." Then after a moment, Eiji sat forward again. "Why does he want me to be there?"
He caught her startled look at him in the rearview mirror, but before she could answer, the car slowed and stopped. Eiji got out, glanced around, and spotted his father standing just inside the door of a very fancy-looking restaurant.
The dinner was long and boring, full of talk that Eiji didn't understand. There were other boys there - he thought he was close to the youngest - all of them appearing, at least, to listen intently to what their fathers and the older men were saying.
"So, Kikumaru-san, this is the son you're training," an arrogant voice said, and Eiji looked up, startled. The man standing by his father's chair was familiar, but Eiji was sure he'd never seen him.
"Ore-sama is surprised to see you," he heard next, and sighed.
Oh. Atobe Keigo's father. Of course.
"I'm surprised to be seen," Eiji said, turning to the other boy.
"Your first time," Atobe observed, sliding into the seat next to Eiji. "Why is that?"
"Too many reasons to enumerate," Eiji said, still feeling uncomfortable.
"Ore-sama heard a rumor about you."
"Oh?" He couldn't even feign interest.
"Did you really alienate the whole Rikkaidai tennis club?"
Eiji snorted softly. "I haven't spoken to Jackal yet. Or he hasn't tried to speak to me."
Atobe's eyes lit up. "You did. Ore-sama finds that very... odd. And refreshing."
Eiji shrugged. "I might have done the same, had I ended up at Hyotei. Although," he added before Atobe could respond, "at least your club has some honor."
"Naturally," Atobe said with a smirk. "Ore-sama is captain."
"Exactly. But really, it doesn't matter. I don't play any more."
"Mukahi will be disappointed."
"He'll get over it." Eiji was tired beyond belief; his run-in with Kirihara and Yagyuu had drained him completely. "My apologies, Atobe. I would much prefer to be left alone for as long as I can manage it."
With a smirk, Atobe inclined his head, got to his feet, and went to speak with someone else. Eiji relaxed - as much as he could.
On the way home, however, his father railed at him, about how ashamed he was, how embarrassed he was, and how Eiji had so completely let him down.
Eiji just listened quietly, staring out the windshield. Finally, as they neared the street on which they lived, his father wound down. "Have you nothing to say?" he asked.
"Why did I have to find out from Atobe-san that you decided I would follow your footsteps?" Eiji asked dully.
"Why do you think I brought you to live with me?"
"I don't know," Eiji said. "You haven't even said why you abandoned us, never mind why you picked me to live with you. You do know that Ichiro would have been a better choice, right? He's studying for it." Eiji was just tired. He no longer even cared if he was being rude. "And if you plan on having me attend things with you, please let me know...."
"I told you on Sunday," his father snarled.
"When?" Eiji asked.
"At dinner."
"You weren't there for dinner," Eiji said softly. "I ate alone."
His father looked at him; catching the look out of the corner of his eye, Eiji turned to look back. "I don't really want to do this," he said. "You have sons better prepared, who are interested."
"Who do not know Atobe Keigo."
Eiji turned back to look out the windshield again. "I see. I'm a pawn, am I?"
He didn't miss the startled look his father shot him as they pulled into the drive. Eiji got out and followed his father into the house. He just wanted to sleep.
That was not to be; his father came into his room as he hung up the white shirt of his uniform, and he turned to face him. "Yes, father?"
The man's expression was stony. "Okita said she picked you up near Seigaku."
"Yes, sir. I went to see my friends."
"Why?"
"Because I miss them."
His father took a deep breath, eyes narrowed. "Let me make myself very clear. You will not return there, as long as you're in this house."
Eiji stared at him. "Why not?" he asked. It was just one more thing, one more poison to swallow.
"There are people better for you to associate with at Rikkaidai."
"I heard you," Eiji said bitterly after a moment. "Boasting of your son, the Nationals level tennis player. And yet you won't let me associate with the team or the doubles partner who helped me get there! It doesn't make sense!"
The next thing Eiji knew, he was bent over his desk, and his father's belt fell once - twice - three times across his bare back. His father jerked him upright again, fingers digging into Eiji's arm. "Do as you're told," his father said evenly.
Eiji stared at him in disbelief, stunned, on his feet by sheer will power. He would not show how much that had hurt, both the blows and the rest of the whole evening. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, eyes fixed on his father's chin.
As soon as his father was gone, Eiji changed into his pajamas, crawled into bed, and called Fuji, praying to anyone who would listen that it would be a short conversation.
Next time: The change begins - and Fuji has an uncomfortable conversation with Atobe.