[Fic] Jealousy - PoT, ShishiTori, 10/?
Yay, I got a Sunday update out despite family stuff! Before midnight, even. *grins* Possibly at least one more chapter tomorrow, though I really do need to turn my attention to some of my other poor, neglected stories.
Title: Jealousy
Series: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: ShishiTori, Tori/?
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Word Count: chapter = 4265 fic so far = 38,725
Summary: Sometimes you don't appreciate the value of what you've got, until you don't have it any more.
If there was one thing Shishido had never expected to be doing, it was standing outside Ohtori's front door trying to work up the nerve to ring the bell. And trying not to hyperventilate while he was at it.
It wasn't just that he'd never expected to need to be this nervous about facing Ohtori, it was that he was unused to being this nervous about anything. He'd gone through most of his life with confidence in himself and his ability to win whatever he wanted. The only other time in his life that he'd been this nerve-wracked had been when he was facing Sakaki, begging for his spot on the team.
Well, there were a lot of parallels between that situation and this one. He'd fucked up, he'd learned his lesson the hard way, and now he had to somehow earn forgiveness he really had no right to. Winning Ohtori back as a friend was absolutely no less important to him than getting his spot on the team back had been.
And that thought alone would have told him how very important the junior had become to him, even if he hadn't had his comfortable state of denial forcibly ripped away from him.
Finally he took a deep breath and steeled himself. Reaching out, he punched at the doorbell almost viciously, listening to it echo inside the big house through the door.
After being friends with Atobe all his life Ohtori's family's wealth didn't exactly impress him, though he'd been a little startled the first time he'd visited his partner's home and realized how well off he was. Unlike Atobe, Ohtori never made a big deal about his circumstances, preferring to succeed based on his own merits.
There was no sound of a response for a good minute or two, and Shishido reached out to ring the bell again. Also unlike Atobe, Ohtori's family didn't keep live-in servants. It was possible nobody was home; he hadn't exactly called ahead, not wanting to warn Ohtori he was coming.
Just as he heard the sound of running footsteps from inside, it belatedly occurred to Shishido that not calling ahead also meant it was entirely possible that Ohtori would be there - with Amano.
Before he could change his mind and bolt, the door flew open to reveal a rather breathless Ohtori, who was already apologizing before he actually realized who was standing there. "I'm sorry, I was in the back of the house and I didn't... hear..."
The junior trailed off and gaped at Shishido with wide eyes, his hand going white-knuckled on the doorway. If there was one person Ohtori had not expected to find on his doorstep, it was his former doubles partner. For a long moment they just stared at each other, both of them trying to deal with the riot of emotions caused by confronting the other.
After a frantic moment, Ohtori finally managed to gather his scattered wits. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down at Shishido, pulling the icy demeanour around him that had always helped him in the past to deal with things that hurt him. "Was there something I can do for you, senpai?" he inquired, voice frosty but perfectly polite.
It had the intended effect; Shishido winced visibly. He couldn't remember Ohtori ever referring to him as just 'senpai' since Shishido had first asked for his help in training. It was a message as clear as a shout that Shishido no longer had any special place in Ohtori's affections; he was just another senior who had once been in the tennis club, one of literally hundreds.
"Choutarou..." his own voice was husky, struggling to hide both hurt and panic. He'd known this was going to be hard, but blessed kami he hadn't realized how difficult it would be. Dealing with the 'Ice Prince' act up close and personal was much more painful than facing it from across a crowded hallway.
Hearing Shishido use his given name only made Ohtori's shoulders stiffen. The only person outside his family who called him that now was Kazuya, and it actually made him a little angry that Shishido still presumed that kind of familiarity with him. When the senior didn't seem about to continue, Ohtori chilled his voice a few degrees further and narrowed his eyes in warning. "If there isn't anything, I really have homework that I should be getting back to. If you'll excuse me." He started to shut the door, feeling oddly like he was severing the last vestiges of their relationship as he did so.
He wasn't the only one who felt that way. "No, wait!" Shishido cried, his hand shooting out to grab the edge of the door, preventing Ohtori from closing it all the way. They stared at each other again, frozen brown eyes to panicked blue, and Shishido swallowed hard. "Listen, I... I need to talk to you." Even as the words came out of his mouth, he was shaking his head. "No, that's not right, damn it. I need to apologize to you."
Ohtori's tight grip on the door loosened somewhat in shock. If Shishido had ever apologized to anyone, Ohtori certainly hadn't been witness to it. Don't let him in, he's only going to hurt you again, the suspicious part of his mind whispered at him. Something about the sheer desperation in Shishido's eyes overrode his common sense, however, and he found himself reluctantly stepping back out of the way. "Come inside before the cat gets out," he sighed, raking one hand through his silver hair.
Torn between terror and hope, Shishido stepped inside and kicked his shoes off, letting Ohtori close the door behind him. He had no idea if Ohtori had meant for him to come any farther into the house than the genkan, but maybe if Shishido came in anyway, Ohtori would be too polite to just kick him out again.
"Is your family home?" he asked the younger boy awkwardly. Is Amano here, was what he really meant, but he couldn't just come out and ask that. Thankfully, the taller boy shook his head.
"No, I'm alone for the day," Ohtori admitted, turning to go further into the house and gesturing for Shishido to follow him. If they were going to have this conversation - or perhaps 'confrontation' would have been a better word - he wanted to do it on his ground. Since he'd turned away, he missed the flash of pure relief that flitted over Shishido's expression as the older boy trailed after him.
"You'll have to pass my greetings to them," Shishido murmured, sighing softly. He honestly did like Ohtori's family, and they'd seemed relatively fond of him on the occasions they'd met him. But all the same, he was just as glad they weren't here to overhear the shouting that was potentially going to result from this.
Ohtori was thinking much the same thing, if Shishido had only known it. He led the way up the stairs to his room even though the living room would have been more neutral territory, because he wasn't sure exactly when his parents or sister might be getting home. He wanted privacy for this.
Having Shishido in his room again after so many months of not even speaking to the older boy felt distinctly odd. Ohtori gestured for Shishido to precede him inside, then closed the door once he'd entered as well. Leaning against the wall next to the door, he folded his arms over his chest, as much to hide the trembling in his hands as to look disinterested. "So? Talk," he said flatly, his voice not warming in the least.
With a sigh, Shishido turned the desk chair around and collapsed down into it backwards, his arms hooked over the back. He was using it as a shield and he knew it, and moreover he knew Ohtori recognized it too. But it did make him feel a little better, so he clung to it. "You're not going to make this at all easy on me, are you?" he asked, a bit ruefully.
Eyes hardening, Ohtori gave him a disbelieving look. "Is there any possible reason why I should?" he snapped back, shifting his weight slightly. Did Shishido honestly believe he could just waltz in here talking about an apology - not even giving one, just talking about it - and Ohtori would revert to his previous hero-worshipping behaviour?
Looking back at him wide-eyed, Shishido sighed. "No," he admitted, his voice low and full of self-mockery. "I sure as hell can't think of any."
That startled Ohtori again, because he'd been expecting a very different reply. Blinking, he studied the older boy, and the outermost fringes of his icy demeanour began to thaw. Shishido looked miserable, to put it bluntly. The only other time Ohtori had ever seen him be so harsh on himself was immediately after he'd been dropped from the Regulars.
"So? Talk," he said again, but this time it was a bit less of a demand and a little more of an invitation.
Shishido took that as a good sign, and drew a deep breath. "Look, I was an idiot, okay? An idiot, and an asshole. And I'm sorry. Really, honestly sorry, Choutarou."
"Yes, you were," Ohtori agreed, eyes flashing dangerously and a hint of warning joining the ice in his tone. "I'm curious what made you realize it."
Trying not to flinch again - when had Ohtori gotten so good at making Shishido feel like something that had just crawled out from under a rock? - Shishido shook his head. "A lot of things. Mostly Atobe and Jirou, and my own damn mind finally catching up with my hindbrain." That won him a sardonic look from his former partner, and Shishido sighed. "It was a hell of a shock, you know? I freaked out. And you can't entirely blame me for that," he added, defensive. "I'd just had a hell of a bombshell dropped on me, damn it."
"I don't blame you," Ohtori informed him, his voice level but still not warming at all. "I never did blame you." Throwing blame around never got anyone anywhere, he'd learned a long time ago.
Hope blossomed in Shishido's face, and confusion. "You don't? But then why..."
"The fact that I don't blame you does not mean that I forgive you," Ohtori cut in bluntly, his expression forbidding. "Not in the least. That I understand some of your reasons for doing it does not change the fact that your behaviour was hurtful, and rude, and totally unwarranted."
Shishido wanted to say something in response to that, to make some kind of defense for himself, but the words refused to come. Really, what could he say? Ohtori was right, he had been all of those things, and more.
It didn't matter that he couldn't speak, though, because Ohtori wasn't stopping. "Did you think you could come in here and apologize, and everything would be all right again?" the junior demanded, hands clenching into fists where they were tucked under his arms. "That all it would take was a few contrite words from you, and things would go back to the way they were before?"
"No!" Shishido burst out, half rising from the chair. "Gods, no. Choutarou, it's not... I didn't think it would be that easy, no." He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. He'd had all kinds of speeches planned out in his head, had thought he had every contingency covered and knew exactly what to say. All his polished words had flown right out of his head the moment Ohtori had opened the door, unfortunately.
"Look, it was hard for me, all right?" Shishido said, almost pleaded. He locked eyes with his former partner, and silently begged the younger boy for understanding. "I'd never... I tried to avoid thinking about that kind of thing as much as possible, you know? And then Atobe and Jirou said that stuff about you having a crush on me. And then you admitted to it. No, let me finish, please," he added desperately when it looked like Ohtori was going to interrupt him with more angry words.
Reluctantly, Ohtori nodded and closed his mouth again. Shishido deserved at least a chance to get his 'explanation' all the way out before he started tearing into the senior, he supposed. If nothing else, it would give him further ammunition if he knew exactly where Shishido's perceived weaknesses on the matter were. Not that long ago, Ohtori would rather have died than ever cause his partner any pain. Now, he was badly hurt enough to be more than willing to lash out and deal some hurt in return, given the chance.
"The thing that took me a long time to realize was what really bothered me most about the whole mess," Shishido continued, each word dragged from him by sheer effort of will. He hadn't yet admitted the truth out loud, not even to Atobe and Jirou. Not even to himself, not in so many words. But he had to say it now, he knew, if he was ever going to have a chance to repair the damage he'd caused. There couldn't be any more secrets between them.
"Which was?" Ohtori prompted him when Shishido paused to gather himself for the final confession.
"The way it made me feel to know you thought about me that way," Shishido forced the words out, ducking his head and lowering his eyes to stare at Ohtori's feet. A painful blush stained his cheeks, and his hands were white-knuckled on the back of the chair. "I thought I was straight, damn it. I wasn't ready to deal with the idea that I was capable of thinking about another guy like that. When you confessed I was a lot happier about it than I could face acknowledging, and so I refused to recognize it. I panicked, completely and utterly. I pushed you and it and everything about it away from me, as far as I could get, like I hoped if I could just avoid it long enough I wouldn't have to deal with it. It's that simple."
The words hit Ohtori like lead shot to the stomach, and his breath caught in his throat. Gods, how often had he dreamed about Shishido saying something like that to him? How many times had he fantasized confessing his feelings, and having Shishido admit to being happy to hear his confession?
But it was too little, too late. Far too late. He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "So, what? I hope you didn't expect me to fall at your feet with gratitude. For one thing, I've gotten over you. I was more or less over you by the time your birthday came around, and even if I hadn't been your subsequent behaviour would have severely disillusioned me."
He narrowed his eyes, and dared Shishido to try to argue with him. "For another," he added coldly, "I already have a boyfriend. One who has never yet caused me to feel even a fraction of the pain and anguish you put me through. All I ever really wanted from you was your friendship. I was more than happy with that. Do you have any idea what it made me feel like when you just suddenly cut me out like that?" He took a step away from the wall, shaking with emotion that he refused to allow into his voice. "After promising me that things would be better between us?"
"I know." The simple words shouldn't have been able to contain such a wealth of hurt and regret, but the sound of it stopped Ohtori in his tracks. Miserably Shishido lifted his head again, and looked the younger boy right in the eyes. "I know," he repeated. "I didn't come here expecting to find a quick fix to things. And I know you're with Amano." He couldn't quite keep the snarl out of his voice, but he cleared his throat and hurried on.
"I'm glad he makes you happy, really I am. Choutarou, the only thing I came here for today was to apologize, and tell you that I know what an ass I've been," Shishido concluded, grimacing. "And to find out if there is anything, anything, that I can do to start to make it up to you." He looked up at the taller boy, his expression becoming pleading again. "I miss you like hell. As a friend, and a partner. Please, Choutarou. Tell me what I can do."
"I'm not sure there is anything," Ohtori admitted, his voice thick with emotion. The ice was cracking, unable to bear up under the intense pressure from within him. He struggled to hold on to it. As long as he kept the ice around him, he couldn't be hurt further. If he lost it, he would be vulnerable again.
Abruptly Shishido stood from the chair, and walked around in front of it. When he was just a few feet from Ohtori, he dropped to his knees, putting his hands on the floor in front of him and bowing until his head nearly touched them. Ohtori stared in utter shock as Shishido murmured, "I can't even begin to apologize enough, Choutarou. But I'll try. I'll keep trying as long as you want me to. I'll beg if that's what you want. Anything. Just please give me another chance."
Staring down at him, Ohtori's lower lip trembled slightly. He bit down hard to stop it, and tasted copper in his mouth as his lip stung beneath his teeth. Only once before had he ever seen Shishido debase himself like this. He'd never thought he would see it again. Certainly not for the sake of his forgiveness.
Did his friendship really mean that much to the senior? Granted this wasn't as public as his begging to Sakaki had been, but Ohtori had the odd feeling that the setting wouldn't have mattered in the least. Shishido looked and sounded deadly serious.
"Anything?" he found himself repeating, tasting the word like it was foreign. Shishido's back was one long line of tension, and Ohtori could almost see ghost images of the long hair that had fallen over the senior's face the last time he'd been in this position. The memory gave him an inkling of an idea.
"Anything," Shishido confirmed, daring to turn his head enough to peek up at his former partner. The younger boy looked more thoughtful than angry now, and he thought that was a good sign. "I'd cut my hair again, but I think the symbolism of that was kinda used up the first time around," he offered with a weak grin. "Besides, there's not much to cut yet."
Despite himself, Ohtori was startled into a brief laugh. "No, I don't think that would work a second time," he agreed. "It wouldn't be nearly as dramatic this time."
Considering the prone form before him, he finally came to a decision. "You said you'd do anything. I once felt the same about you. I offered to give up my spot on the team for you, do you remember?"
"How could I forget?" Shishido replied softly, his heart clenching at the memory. When Sakaki had scathingly asked if Ohtori would be willing to give up his place on the Regulars so Shishido could return, he'd nearly died on the spot. The idea of anybody willingly giving up his spot had been incomprehensible to him, let alone the thought of doing it for someone else's gain.
When Ohtori's soft but firm "I wouldn't mind," had registered, he'd all but choked on his own tongue. He'd decided then and there that he would make it up to the junior for everything he'd put him through, no matter what it took. And their friendship and partnership could be argued to have its true inception in that moment.
"Would you do the same for me?" Ohtori asked now, his voice giving nothing of his feelings away. Shishido sat up enough to look up at him, obviously confused. "If I asked it of you, to prove how serious you are, would you give up your place on the team for me?"
"But I'm not on the team any more," Shishido protested, frowning. "How can I give up something I don't have?"
"What if I told you to not join the club in high school?" Ohtori asked, staring down at him. "You want to play with me again? Fine, you can play with me. And only me. Would you do it?"
Understanding dawned, and Shishido took a deep breath. "Yes," he said, without the slightest hesitation. He looked at the surprise in Ohtori's eyes, and repeated the word more firmly. "Yes. Hell yes. If that's what it takes, I'll do it. I'll write a letter to the coach telling him not to bother recruiting me." He grimaced slightly, his mind racing over the ramifications. Atobe would kill him, and Jirou was going to make those big, disappointed eyes at him that both Shishido and Atobe had such a difficult time resisting. The thought of not being able to compete in high school was painful, but if that was what Ohtori required before he would consider trying to repair their friendship, he'd throw it all away without a second thought. "Hell, I'll call Atobe right now. If that's what you want, Choutarou."
He reached into his pocket, fishing for his phone, and Ohtori let out an almost explosive breath. He really would do it, the junior realized, not without a sense of awe. Shishido truly was going to give up his dream of playing tennis in high school, of returning to the Nationals once more. Ohtori knew how very much that dream meant to the senior; they'd talked about it often enough.
Dropping to his knees in front of the older boy, Ohtori reached out and caught his hand before he could turn his phone on. "Don't," he said, his voice cracking. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Don't, you don't have to call him. I'll play with you."
"But..." Shishido stared at him, confused again. "You said..."
"Yes, well." Ohtori shook his head slightly, and from somewhere the barest ghost of a smile played over his lips. "I didn't end up having to give up my spot, did I? I'll play with you again, Shishido-san. You don't have to give up your chance at the team."
Belatedly Shishido realized that Ohtori had been bluffing, that it had all been a test. Drawing a deep breath, he leaned back on his feet, trying to still the trembling in his hands so Ohtori wouldn't feel it. "You bastard," he said, though there was no real venom in his voice. "To think I once thought you were the nicest guy in the whole damn club."
"Don't think this means all is forgiven and forgotten," Ohtori warned him, dropping his hand when it was evident Shishido wasn't going to try to call Atobe. His brown eyes flashed, and not all the ice was gone yet. "I'll play with you, but you're going to have to earn your way back into being my friend. And it won't be easy." He glared at the older boy. "You broke my trust in you. You're not going to get that back in a day, or even a month. Understand me?"
"I understand," Shishido nodded, trying not to feel disappointed. In truth, it was more than he'd expected to get. It was a chance. He just had to make sure he didn't screw up this time. "I understand, Choutarou, I promise." It finally occurred to him that he was being awfully familiar to someone he no longer had the right to call 'friend'. "Uh. Ohtori. Ohtori-kun. Damn it."
Closing his eyes briefly, Ohtori reached for calm. He stood, looming over Shishido once more. "Choutarou is fine," he said with a sigh. "I think it would be too weird to have you call me anything else. Just don't make the mistake of thinking it means I've forgiven you."
"I won't," Shishido promised fervently, scrambling awkwardly to his feet. "You won't regret this, Choutarou. I swear it. I'm going to make it up to you, and I'm going to find a way to earn back your friendship it if kills me. You'll see." Tilting his head, he asked hopefully, "You want to go play a game? We've got a couple months until the non-school tournaments start, but it's probably going to take us that long to get our combination back in shape. There's an indoor court near here, right?"
"Yeah, there is," Ohtori agreed, considering the idea. He did have homework, but it was the middle of winter break, it could wait. Kazuya was away with his family for the week, visiting relatives, so he wouldn't be breaking any prior plans with his boyfriend. He hid a grimace at the thought of the pianist's likely reaction to finding out that Ohtori was playing with his former partner again, but he'd deal with that after the other boy got back. Kazuya was terribly protective of him, and while it was endearing, it could also occasionally get irritating.
"All right," he finally agreed, offering Shishido a cautious smile. "We'll go practice."
In that moment they were both thinking more or less the same thing, the beginning of the return of the synchronicity between them. And maybe, just maybe, this won't have such a bad ending after all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note: Er, did I say this was all going to remain strictly from Shishido's point of view? *sweatdrops* Eheheh. I never do know exactly what the muses are planning from one moment to the next until I'm actually writing it.
Title: Jealousy
Series: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: ShishiTori, Tori/?
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Word Count: chapter = 4265 fic so far = 38,725
Summary: Sometimes you don't appreciate the value of what you've got, until you don't have it any more.
If there was one thing Shishido had never expected to be doing, it was standing outside Ohtori's front door trying to work up the nerve to ring the bell. And trying not to hyperventilate while he was at it.
It wasn't just that he'd never expected to need to be this nervous about facing Ohtori, it was that he was unused to being this nervous about anything. He'd gone through most of his life with confidence in himself and his ability to win whatever he wanted. The only other time in his life that he'd been this nerve-wracked had been when he was facing Sakaki, begging for his spot on the team.
Well, there were a lot of parallels between that situation and this one. He'd fucked up, he'd learned his lesson the hard way, and now he had to somehow earn forgiveness he really had no right to. Winning Ohtori back as a friend was absolutely no less important to him than getting his spot on the team back had been.
And that thought alone would have told him how very important the junior had become to him, even if he hadn't had his comfortable state of denial forcibly ripped away from him.
Finally he took a deep breath and steeled himself. Reaching out, he punched at the doorbell almost viciously, listening to it echo inside the big house through the door.
After being friends with Atobe all his life Ohtori's family's wealth didn't exactly impress him, though he'd been a little startled the first time he'd visited his partner's home and realized how well off he was. Unlike Atobe, Ohtori never made a big deal about his circumstances, preferring to succeed based on his own merits.
There was no sound of a response for a good minute or two, and Shishido reached out to ring the bell again. Also unlike Atobe, Ohtori's family didn't keep live-in servants. It was possible nobody was home; he hadn't exactly called ahead, not wanting to warn Ohtori he was coming.
Just as he heard the sound of running footsteps from inside, it belatedly occurred to Shishido that not calling ahead also meant it was entirely possible that Ohtori would be there - with Amano.
Before he could change his mind and bolt, the door flew open to reveal a rather breathless Ohtori, who was already apologizing before he actually realized who was standing there. "I'm sorry, I was in the back of the house and I didn't... hear..."
The junior trailed off and gaped at Shishido with wide eyes, his hand going white-knuckled on the doorway. If there was one person Ohtori had not expected to find on his doorstep, it was his former doubles partner. For a long moment they just stared at each other, both of them trying to deal with the riot of emotions caused by confronting the other.
After a frantic moment, Ohtori finally managed to gather his scattered wits. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down at Shishido, pulling the icy demeanour around him that had always helped him in the past to deal with things that hurt him. "Was there something I can do for you, senpai?" he inquired, voice frosty but perfectly polite.
It had the intended effect; Shishido winced visibly. He couldn't remember Ohtori ever referring to him as just 'senpai' since Shishido had first asked for his help in training. It was a message as clear as a shout that Shishido no longer had any special place in Ohtori's affections; he was just another senior who had once been in the tennis club, one of literally hundreds.
"Choutarou..." his own voice was husky, struggling to hide both hurt and panic. He'd known this was going to be hard, but blessed kami he hadn't realized how difficult it would be. Dealing with the 'Ice Prince' act up close and personal was much more painful than facing it from across a crowded hallway.
Hearing Shishido use his given name only made Ohtori's shoulders stiffen. The only person outside his family who called him that now was Kazuya, and it actually made him a little angry that Shishido still presumed that kind of familiarity with him. When the senior didn't seem about to continue, Ohtori chilled his voice a few degrees further and narrowed his eyes in warning. "If there isn't anything, I really have homework that I should be getting back to. If you'll excuse me." He started to shut the door, feeling oddly like he was severing the last vestiges of their relationship as he did so.
He wasn't the only one who felt that way. "No, wait!" Shishido cried, his hand shooting out to grab the edge of the door, preventing Ohtori from closing it all the way. They stared at each other again, frozen brown eyes to panicked blue, and Shishido swallowed hard. "Listen, I... I need to talk to you." Even as the words came out of his mouth, he was shaking his head. "No, that's not right, damn it. I need to apologize to you."
Ohtori's tight grip on the door loosened somewhat in shock. If Shishido had ever apologized to anyone, Ohtori certainly hadn't been witness to it. Don't let him in, he's only going to hurt you again, the suspicious part of his mind whispered at him. Something about the sheer desperation in Shishido's eyes overrode his common sense, however, and he found himself reluctantly stepping back out of the way. "Come inside before the cat gets out," he sighed, raking one hand through his silver hair.
Torn between terror and hope, Shishido stepped inside and kicked his shoes off, letting Ohtori close the door behind him. He had no idea if Ohtori had meant for him to come any farther into the house than the genkan, but maybe if Shishido came in anyway, Ohtori would be too polite to just kick him out again.
"Is your family home?" he asked the younger boy awkwardly. Is Amano here, was what he really meant, but he couldn't just come out and ask that. Thankfully, the taller boy shook his head.
"No, I'm alone for the day," Ohtori admitted, turning to go further into the house and gesturing for Shishido to follow him. If they were going to have this conversation - or perhaps 'confrontation' would have been a better word - he wanted to do it on his ground. Since he'd turned away, he missed the flash of pure relief that flitted over Shishido's expression as the older boy trailed after him.
"You'll have to pass my greetings to them," Shishido murmured, sighing softly. He honestly did like Ohtori's family, and they'd seemed relatively fond of him on the occasions they'd met him. But all the same, he was just as glad they weren't here to overhear the shouting that was potentially going to result from this.
Ohtori was thinking much the same thing, if Shishido had only known it. He led the way up the stairs to his room even though the living room would have been more neutral territory, because he wasn't sure exactly when his parents or sister might be getting home. He wanted privacy for this.
Having Shishido in his room again after so many months of not even speaking to the older boy felt distinctly odd. Ohtori gestured for Shishido to precede him inside, then closed the door once he'd entered as well. Leaning against the wall next to the door, he folded his arms over his chest, as much to hide the trembling in his hands as to look disinterested. "So? Talk," he said flatly, his voice not warming in the least.
With a sigh, Shishido turned the desk chair around and collapsed down into it backwards, his arms hooked over the back. He was using it as a shield and he knew it, and moreover he knew Ohtori recognized it too. But it did make him feel a little better, so he clung to it. "You're not going to make this at all easy on me, are you?" he asked, a bit ruefully.
Eyes hardening, Ohtori gave him a disbelieving look. "Is there any possible reason why I should?" he snapped back, shifting his weight slightly. Did Shishido honestly believe he could just waltz in here talking about an apology - not even giving one, just talking about it - and Ohtori would revert to his previous hero-worshipping behaviour?
Looking back at him wide-eyed, Shishido sighed. "No," he admitted, his voice low and full of self-mockery. "I sure as hell can't think of any."
That startled Ohtori again, because he'd been expecting a very different reply. Blinking, he studied the older boy, and the outermost fringes of his icy demeanour began to thaw. Shishido looked miserable, to put it bluntly. The only other time Ohtori had ever seen him be so harsh on himself was immediately after he'd been dropped from the Regulars.
"So? Talk," he said again, but this time it was a bit less of a demand and a little more of an invitation.
Shishido took that as a good sign, and drew a deep breath. "Look, I was an idiot, okay? An idiot, and an asshole. And I'm sorry. Really, honestly sorry, Choutarou."
"Yes, you were," Ohtori agreed, eyes flashing dangerously and a hint of warning joining the ice in his tone. "I'm curious what made you realize it."
Trying not to flinch again - when had Ohtori gotten so good at making Shishido feel like something that had just crawled out from under a rock? - Shishido shook his head. "A lot of things. Mostly Atobe and Jirou, and my own damn mind finally catching up with my hindbrain." That won him a sardonic look from his former partner, and Shishido sighed. "It was a hell of a shock, you know? I freaked out. And you can't entirely blame me for that," he added, defensive. "I'd just had a hell of a bombshell dropped on me, damn it."
"I don't blame you," Ohtori informed him, his voice level but still not warming at all. "I never did blame you." Throwing blame around never got anyone anywhere, he'd learned a long time ago.
Hope blossomed in Shishido's face, and confusion. "You don't? But then why..."
"The fact that I don't blame you does not mean that I forgive you," Ohtori cut in bluntly, his expression forbidding. "Not in the least. That I understand some of your reasons for doing it does not change the fact that your behaviour was hurtful, and rude, and totally unwarranted."
Shishido wanted to say something in response to that, to make some kind of defense for himself, but the words refused to come. Really, what could he say? Ohtori was right, he had been all of those things, and more.
It didn't matter that he couldn't speak, though, because Ohtori wasn't stopping. "Did you think you could come in here and apologize, and everything would be all right again?" the junior demanded, hands clenching into fists where they were tucked under his arms. "That all it would take was a few contrite words from you, and things would go back to the way they were before?"
"No!" Shishido burst out, half rising from the chair. "Gods, no. Choutarou, it's not... I didn't think it would be that easy, no." He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. He'd had all kinds of speeches planned out in his head, had thought he had every contingency covered and knew exactly what to say. All his polished words had flown right out of his head the moment Ohtori had opened the door, unfortunately.
"Look, it was hard for me, all right?" Shishido said, almost pleaded. He locked eyes with his former partner, and silently begged the younger boy for understanding. "I'd never... I tried to avoid thinking about that kind of thing as much as possible, you know? And then Atobe and Jirou said that stuff about you having a crush on me. And then you admitted to it. No, let me finish, please," he added desperately when it looked like Ohtori was going to interrupt him with more angry words.
Reluctantly, Ohtori nodded and closed his mouth again. Shishido deserved at least a chance to get his 'explanation' all the way out before he started tearing into the senior, he supposed. If nothing else, it would give him further ammunition if he knew exactly where Shishido's perceived weaknesses on the matter were. Not that long ago, Ohtori would rather have died than ever cause his partner any pain. Now, he was badly hurt enough to be more than willing to lash out and deal some hurt in return, given the chance.
"The thing that took me a long time to realize was what really bothered me most about the whole mess," Shishido continued, each word dragged from him by sheer effort of will. He hadn't yet admitted the truth out loud, not even to Atobe and Jirou. Not even to himself, not in so many words. But he had to say it now, he knew, if he was ever going to have a chance to repair the damage he'd caused. There couldn't be any more secrets between them.
"Which was?" Ohtori prompted him when Shishido paused to gather himself for the final confession.
"The way it made me feel to know you thought about me that way," Shishido forced the words out, ducking his head and lowering his eyes to stare at Ohtori's feet. A painful blush stained his cheeks, and his hands were white-knuckled on the back of the chair. "I thought I was straight, damn it. I wasn't ready to deal with the idea that I was capable of thinking about another guy like that. When you confessed I was a lot happier about it than I could face acknowledging, and so I refused to recognize it. I panicked, completely and utterly. I pushed you and it and everything about it away from me, as far as I could get, like I hoped if I could just avoid it long enough I wouldn't have to deal with it. It's that simple."
The words hit Ohtori like lead shot to the stomach, and his breath caught in his throat. Gods, how often had he dreamed about Shishido saying something like that to him? How many times had he fantasized confessing his feelings, and having Shishido admit to being happy to hear his confession?
But it was too little, too late. Far too late. He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "So, what? I hope you didn't expect me to fall at your feet with gratitude. For one thing, I've gotten over you. I was more or less over you by the time your birthday came around, and even if I hadn't been your subsequent behaviour would have severely disillusioned me."
He narrowed his eyes, and dared Shishido to try to argue with him. "For another," he added coldly, "I already have a boyfriend. One who has never yet caused me to feel even a fraction of the pain and anguish you put me through. All I ever really wanted from you was your friendship. I was more than happy with that. Do you have any idea what it made me feel like when you just suddenly cut me out like that?" He took a step away from the wall, shaking with emotion that he refused to allow into his voice. "After promising me that things would be better between us?"
"I know." The simple words shouldn't have been able to contain such a wealth of hurt and regret, but the sound of it stopped Ohtori in his tracks. Miserably Shishido lifted his head again, and looked the younger boy right in the eyes. "I know," he repeated. "I didn't come here expecting to find a quick fix to things. And I know you're with Amano." He couldn't quite keep the snarl out of his voice, but he cleared his throat and hurried on.
"I'm glad he makes you happy, really I am. Choutarou, the only thing I came here for today was to apologize, and tell you that I know what an ass I've been," Shishido concluded, grimacing. "And to find out if there is anything, anything, that I can do to start to make it up to you." He looked up at the taller boy, his expression becoming pleading again. "I miss you like hell. As a friend, and a partner. Please, Choutarou. Tell me what I can do."
"I'm not sure there is anything," Ohtori admitted, his voice thick with emotion. The ice was cracking, unable to bear up under the intense pressure from within him. He struggled to hold on to it. As long as he kept the ice around him, he couldn't be hurt further. If he lost it, he would be vulnerable again.
Abruptly Shishido stood from the chair, and walked around in front of it. When he was just a few feet from Ohtori, he dropped to his knees, putting his hands on the floor in front of him and bowing until his head nearly touched them. Ohtori stared in utter shock as Shishido murmured, "I can't even begin to apologize enough, Choutarou. But I'll try. I'll keep trying as long as you want me to. I'll beg if that's what you want. Anything. Just please give me another chance."
Staring down at him, Ohtori's lower lip trembled slightly. He bit down hard to stop it, and tasted copper in his mouth as his lip stung beneath his teeth. Only once before had he ever seen Shishido debase himself like this. He'd never thought he would see it again. Certainly not for the sake of his forgiveness.
Did his friendship really mean that much to the senior? Granted this wasn't as public as his begging to Sakaki had been, but Ohtori had the odd feeling that the setting wouldn't have mattered in the least. Shishido looked and sounded deadly serious.
"Anything?" he found himself repeating, tasting the word like it was foreign. Shishido's back was one long line of tension, and Ohtori could almost see ghost images of the long hair that had fallen over the senior's face the last time he'd been in this position. The memory gave him an inkling of an idea.
"Anything," Shishido confirmed, daring to turn his head enough to peek up at his former partner. The younger boy looked more thoughtful than angry now, and he thought that was a good sign. "I'd cut my hair again, but I think the symbolism of that was kinda used up the first time around," he offered with a weak grin. "Besides, there's not much to cut yet."
Despite himself, Ohtori was startled into a brief laugh. "No, I don't think that would work a second time," he agreed. "It wouldn't be nearly as dramatic this time."
Considering the prone form before him, he finally came to a decision. "You said you'd do anything. I once felt the same about you. I offered to give up my spot on the team for you, do you remember?"
"How could I forget?" Shishido replied softly, his heart clenching at the memory. When Sakaki had scathingly asked if Ohtori would be willing to give up his place on the Regulars so Shishido could return, he'd nearly died on the spot. The idea of anybody willingly giving up his spot had been incomprehensible to him, let alone the thought of doing it for someone else's gain.
When Ohtori's soft but firm "I wouldn't mind," had registered, he'd all but choked on his own tongue. He'd decided then and there that he would make it up to the junior for everything he'd put him through, no matter what it took. And their friendship and partnership could be argued to have its true inception in that moment.
"Would you do the same for me?" Ohtori asked now, his voice giving nothing of his feelings away. Shishido sat up enough to look up at him, obviously confused. "If I asked it of you, to prove how serious you are, would you give up your place on the team for me?"
"But I'm not on the team any more," Shishido protested, frowning. "How can I give up something I don't have?"
"What if I told you to not join the club in high school?" Ohtori asked, staring down at him. "You want to play with me again? Fine, you can play with me. And only me. Would you do it?"
Understanding dawned, and Shishido took a deep breath. "Yes," he said, without the slightest hesitation. He looked at the surprise in Ohtori's eyes, and repeated the word more firmly. "Yes. Hell yes. If that's what it takes, I'll do it. I'll write a letter to the coach telling him not to bother recruiting me." He grimaced slightly, his mind racing over the ramifications. Atobe would kill him, and Jirou was going to make those big, disappointed eyes at him that both Shishido and Atobe had such a difficult time resisting. The thought of not being able to compete in high school was painful, but if that was what Ohtori required before he would consider trying to repair their friendship, he'd throw it all away without a second thought. "Hell, I'll call Atobe right now. If that's what you want, Choutarou."
He reached into his pocket, fishing for his phone, and Ohtori let out an almost explosive breath. He really would do it, the junior realized, not without a sense of awe. Shishido truly was going to give up his dream of playing tennis in high school, of returning to the Nationals once more. Ohtori knew how very much that dream meant to the senior; they'd talked about it often enough.
Dropping to his knees in front of the older boy, Ohtori reached out and caught his hand before he could turn his phone on. "Don't," he said, his voice cracking. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Don't, you don't have to call him. I'll play with you."
"But..." Shishido stared at him, confused again. "You said..."
"Yes, well." Ohtori shook his head slightly, and from somewhere the barest ghost of a smile played over his lips. "I didn't end up having to give up my spot, did I? I'll play with you again, Shishido-san. You don't have to give up your chance at the team."
Belatedly Shishido realized that Ohtori had been bluffing, that it had all been a test. Drawing a deep breath, he leaned back on his feet, trying to still the trembling in his hands so Ohtori wouldn't feel it. "You bastard," he said, though there was no real venom in his voice. "To think I once thought you were the nicest guy in the whole damn club."
"Don't think this means all is forgiven and forgotten," Ohtori warned him, dropping his hand when it was evident Shishido wasn't going to try to call Atobe. His brown eyes flashed, and not all the ice was gone yet. "I'll play with you, but you're going to have to earn your way back into being my friend. And it won't be easy." He glared at the older boy. "You broke my trust in you. You're not going to get that back in a day, or even a month. Understand me?"
"I understand," Shishido nodded, trying not to feel disappointed. In truth, it was more than he'd expected to get. It was a chance. He just had to make sure he didn't screw up this time. "I understand, Choutarou, I promise." It finally occurred to him that he was being awfully familiar to someone he no longer had the right to call 'friend'. "Uh. Ohtori. Ohtori-kun. Damn it."
Closing his eyes briefly, Ohtori reached for calm. He stood, looming over Shishido once more. "Choutarou is fine," he said with a sigh. "I think it would be too weird to have you call me anything else. Just don't make the mistake of thinking it means I've forgiven you."
"I won't," Shishido promised fervently, scrambling awkwardly to his feet. "You won't regret this, Choutarou. I swear it. I'm going to make it up to you, and I'm going to find a way to earn back your friendship it if kills me. You'll see." Tilting his head, he asked hopefully, "You want to go play a game? We've got a couple months until the non-school tournaments start, but it's probably going to take us that long to get our combination back in shape. There's an indoor court near here, right?"
"Yeah, there is," Ohtori agreed, considering the idea. He did have homework, but it was the middle of winter break, it could wait. Kazuya was away with his family for the week, visiting relatives, so he wouldn't be breaking any prior plans with his boyfriend. He hid a grimace at the thought of the pianist's likely reaction to finding out that Ohtori was playing with his former partner again, but he'd deal with that after the other boy got back. Kazuya was terribly protective of him, and while it was endearing, it could also occasionally get irritating.
"All right," he finally agreed, offering Shishido a cautious smile. "We'll go practice."
In that moment they were both thinking more or less the same thing, the beginning of the return of the synchronicity between them. And maybe, just maybe, this won't have such a bad ending after all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note: Er, did I say this was all going to remain strictly from Shishido's point of view? *sweatdrops* Eheheh. I never do know exactly what the muses are planning from one moment to the next until I'm actually writing it.