Disclaimer: All characters belong to Takeshi Konomi
Warnings: Spoilers for the entire series and mature language
Notes: End! At the end of the chapter will be thank yous to reviewers, so this chapter isn't as long as it appears at first.

Eyes of Rikkai

by The Honorable Arik Novak

Gonna be late gonna be late gonna be late…his sneakers hit the pavement one by one in rapid succession as he pushed himself to go faster. If he showed up late, as he so often did for engagements like this...well, he didn't want to think about it. It was almost midnight. He slowed down as he reached his destination, which was surprisingly still lit, and caught his breath. He didn't want to look like he'd been rushing.

A little bell on the door chimed as he pushed it open. Since when did they get a bell?

"You're late," the man in the nearest booth said in a deadpan. He didn't look too troubled about it, though. Seated facing away from the door with a small shot glass loosely held with three fingers, he looked the perfect picture of a relaxed young man with no worries at all. Ryoma thought the man belonged in a bar, not a diner.

"No. You're early," Ryoma glared at him, noticing that he saw a jerky movement from the man in the booth. He took a seat opposite the brown-haired boy and scanned the new menu. "Did you order some sushi for us already? Anything?" he asked, breaking apart his chopsticks with awe. This was getting ridiculous. Sushi? Chopsticks? Alcohol?

His friend laughed. "Well, I did order, but I doubt it's anything you'd want to eat." He poured Ryoma a glass of whatever he was drinking and nudged it over.

Figures. Ryoma hesitantly sniffed the drink and was glad he did. Ugh. He snatched the bottle of alcohol and almost dropped it when he saw what was lying curled up on the bottom. "Fuji-senpai, what the hell?" A snake?

"Habushu. Sort of spicy, but the good kind."

Ryoma narrowed his eyes. "Every kind of spice is the good kind for you. I finally come back, and you try to murder me," he accused the irritating smiling genius. "And you ruin my restaurant." He was not pouting. No matter what Fuji-senpai could say, Echizen Ryoma did not pout.

Fuji-senpai shrugged. "I brought it with me to share, but if you'd rather not…" So at least the diner hadn't changed that.

"No thank you."

Fuji-senpai grinned and poured more of the foul-smelling poison into his own glass. "So Echizen-kun, how are classes treating you?"

It was Ryoma's turn to shrug. "It's not hard. My classmates complain a lot, though. We've started some of the clinical stuff, and while they're struggling with feeling incompetent in front of patients and our resident, I'm struggling with patient contact. I probably should've just stuck with research."

Fuji-senpai nodded in understanding. "I was wondering about that. You aren't the most personable kid around, but when you find someone you like, you just latch on," he said with a broad smile, probably remembering the months of distrust Ryoma had shown the Seigaku team when they sat in the very same booth.

Yeah, Ryoma thought sarcastically, he just couldn't let go. "And that's why I'm in America, sure."

"You're in America because we bought you shoes," Fuji-senpai said very matter-of-factly, unaware of the absurdity in his statement. Ryoma gave no credence to Fuji-senpai's superstitions.

"How is Tezuka-buchou?" Ryoma had graduated from Seigaku years ago, but he still called the man 'buchou,' because he was the only real captain Ryoma ever had.

Fuji-senpai's smile brightened, encouraging Ryoma to ask, "So he's back from Germany? I was talking to him a few weeks ago, but he'd only talk in German so I could improve. He says it's not fair that when I hang out with Roger we both speak English when his native language is German."

"Yes, Tezuka has always been thoughtful of others."

The bell on the door jingled, and it surprised him because he thought the diner was already closed for the night, and he'd never get used to it having a bell. He pushed it to the back of his mind, however, and scanned the menu. Everything there looked familiar, except sushi. And steak. Well, steak wasn't too surprising, the restaurant had steak back then too. But it never had Kobe beef.

"Did you give suggestions to the manager? Is that why there's a whole section just for ridiculously spicy food?" Ryoma asked, looking at the back of the menu. Indeed, there were three variations of the Heart Attack Heat and more absurd meals, some seasoned of wasabi and even one of bhut jolokia peppers.

Ryoma looked at Fuji-senpai because he wasn't answering. But the blue eyes weren't concentrated on Ryoma. No, they were concentrated on him. Standing awkwardly at the end of their table. Looking smart and proper in a suit.

"You didn't say Echizen was going to be here."

Ryoma turned his gaze toward Fuji-senpai so he could glare at him properly. "You planned this, you conniving…"

"Actually, not really. I was scheduled to meet here with Kirihara-san anyway, and since you never said you were flying in on Atobe's jet, which is much faster than the commercial ones, I had no idea you were coming in tonight. Then you called me, just this morning mind you, and I figured we could meet after the diner was closed and Kirihara-san left. But," Fuji turned to Kirihara with a pleasant smile, "Kirihara-san was very late." What was up with all this 'Kirihara-san'?

"I was busy at the office." Kirihara seemed unsure of where to sit, since he would have to sit beside Fuji or Ryoma if he took a place at the booth. It looked like he was deciding which was the lesser evil. "Don't just stand there, pull up a chair if you feel too uncomfortable sitting next to one of us," Ryoma said, irritated at Kirihara's lack of initiative. That would have been horrid bedside manner, Ryoma thought. The suggestion probably only made him more uncomfortable.

"Fuji tells me you're studying in America. What the hell happened to beating Federer? Did you give up?" Kirihara almost immediately wheedled him once he was seated awkwardly at the end of the table.

Ryoma shrugged. "Roger and I play every other weekend or so, since there are others I want to play. We're pretty much tied for wins, but I'm barely in the lead. Sometimes we play doubles against Robin, oh I mean Soderling, and whomever he has with him," he said simply. He didn't need to sound smug. He thought the fact that he was on a first name basis with some of the best and could convince nationally ranked tennis players to play him on the street courts of New York almost every weekend was enough to rankle the other boy. "It's way better than having to wait to play them in tournaments and I can just have fun."

Kirihara didn't look very happy. "You still on about all that 'have fun with tennis and everything will be sunshine and rainbows'?" he asked cynically.

"It worked when I beat Yukimura, didn't it?" Ryoma asked cheekily. He observed Kirihara's quickly reddening face and wondered why Fuji had planned to meet him here in the first place.

"Echizen-kun is attending medical school in New York," Fuji quickly informed Kirihara before the angry man could explode. "And Kirihara-san has a very high position in KH Industries. Now that you two have caught up, we can have a comfortable, non-confrontational conversation, yes?" Fuji sent one of his glares toward Kirihara, and the other man reluctantly pulled out a business card.

"It's just an eight to five job, nothing special," Kirihara said, very self-deprecating. Ryoma didn't get it. The old Kirihara was arrogant and annoying. And what kind of eight to five job made him late for a meeting at midnight?

Ryoma looked at his old classmate up and down. A suit. A pretty expensive suit. The man's hair was better than it used to be, not the ugly nest of stray hairs. And his eyes were clear, even though he still looked incensed. It didn't seem he'd descend into Demon mode anytime soon. Ryoma took the business card and gave Kirihara a questioning look. "Since when is KH Industries spelled like 'seppuku'?" Ryoma may not have been born in Japan, but he could read Japanese.

"It's pronounced Kirihara."

Ryoma's eyes were glinting with amusement. "What's it like, working for a company that shares your last name?"

"Not that weird since my father's the CEO." Kirihara muttered with chagrin.

Ryoma slipped the card into his wallet, sure that he'd never have the need to look at it again. "Your father's crazy, naming a company like that."

"Actually, my grandfather. He changed the spelling of the family name after he created the company." Wow. That company must have been old.

Ryoma continued his analysis of this new Kirihara. "I never knew you were rich. I thought you were the kind of guy who'd throw it in people's faces."

Kirihara actually blushed and then glared at Fuji-senpai, as if he were the one forcing him to talk. He waved his hand dismissively and addressed Fuji-senpai. "Did you ever tell him that you were the one to fix his crazy mom?" He asked, probably just trying to get on Ryoma's nerves.

Ryoma maintained his calm, though now his eyes were smoldering. He thought they were past this juvenile baiting.

"No, I didn't. But thank you for telling him for me," Fuji said calmly, sipping his alcohol like it was tea. "Speaking of your family, how is Ryoga?" he asked, effectively shifting the conversation away from the more volatile topics.

Ryoma loosened his shoulders, unsure of when he had tensed them in the first place. "He's some kind of monk, maintaining the shrine. There's a house there that my mother and my cousin Nanako live in."

And the conversation was brought to a standstill. Fuji seemed satisfied with the way things were going, and Ryoma had a hard time believing that this all wasn't planned. "You know, I'm not fond of people plotting around me," he said pointedly at Fuji-senpai.

"He is quite like Yukimura, isn't he?" Kirihara smirked.

Ryoma agreed, much to Fuji's apparent irritation. "Even down to the feminine cut," Ryoma commented off-handedly, remembering how the entire Seigaku team recounted to him 'Ryoga's Revenge' as they had dubbed it.

"Now Echizen-kun, how Fuji-san chooses to style his hair is his own business," Kirihara snickered.

Is this how it would have been? Ryoma wondered if he and Kirihara could have been friends, if jealousy had never reared its ugly head. If Yukimura hadn't messed with them. Because for some reason, they were having a conversation and no one was shouting. "How is Yukimura anyway?" Ryoma asked cautiously. He wondered if this would be a sore topic. Yukimura was quite the embodiment of Rikkai Dai, and the school was the one point of contention and similarity between them. He himself had gotten over it, had moved on swimmingly, but had Kirihara?

The man seemed to swallow to bolster his courage, but he never let his gaze waver. "I wouldn't know. Haven't seen him since he graduated."

That troubled Ryoma. "You didn't keep in touch with him?" He always pegged Kirihara as the loyal one, with the kind of dedication Ryoma had only seen in Sanada.

"You're kind of oblivious, did you know that?" Kirihara abruptly asked. Now, Ryoma had no idea what he was talking about, and that only gave Kirihara's words more credence.

Kirihara didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, but he still would not lower his eyes. "After you beat him, he demanded that we step in, to stop the transfer process. You probably don't know it, but we all have some influence over the school. My father's a top contributor, and Sanada's name alone could force anyone's hand. It may not seem like it, but even Yanagi-senpai-"

And Ryoma's eyes grew hard. They were alive and intense, but they were cold. Angry. But as always, his voice was controlled. "So? Now you feel guilty? It's been what, seven years? And now you feel the need to tell me that it was you and Sanada-fukubuchou who stopped me from playing for Seigaku?" It was still fresh, the anger he felt when he realized that he had come back only to watch from the sidelines as his team lost.

"No," Kirihara said firmly. Still, he had not given himself the luxury of looking away from that chilly stare. "Yukimura asked us to hold up the process, but we kind...of...didn't. Anyway, he didn't even write a complaint against you. Hereally didn't want you playing for them," he said, nodding his head toward Fuji-senpai.

Now Ryoma was a little more confused. "But there was a complaint. Actually, the bare minimum. I was prepared to let Yukimura throw some really bad accusations around, but it was just the windows in the clubhouse." Not even the job was mentioned, Ryoma thought. "But I still didn't get into Seigaku in time. You're saying you had no part in that?"

Kirihara seemed to smile a bit. It was the barest hint of a smirk. "Nope. The bare minimum complaint? That was Sanada. He figured Yukimura ought to, you know, be honorable and crap like that. So he filed the complaint when Yukimura refused, and even when that wasn't enough, lobbied to have you kicked out, citing a bunch of times you caused trouble. But it was nothing that would hinder you getting into your touchy-feely school." There was the slightest hint of bitterness in Kirihara's voice, but it seemed to have mellowed with time. Or perhaps with Fuji's help. Ryoma noticed how Fuji-senpai and Kirihara were exchanging glances, usually with Fuji-senpai encouraging him to talk.

That must have been hard. Really hard, especially for Sanada. He remembered Yukimura's almost mindless followers and couldn't understand how they had all stood up against him. "But what about the Rikkai's 'must not lose' attitude? The loyalty? Sanada you know, he, Yukimura-"

"Yeah, we all knew how Sanada felt about Yukimura. But Sanada has this old-fashioned honor and stuff. And the Rikkaidai mindset really doesn't work when the leader loses and can't bear the consequences," Kirihara shrugged like it was nothing.

And maybe for him, it was nothing.

But for Ryoma, it was like a paradigm shift. Was that all it took to wrest control from Yukimura's fingers? But something still didn't make sense. "Then what happened at the Nationals?"

"A bitter, empty victory, my good sir," Kirihara sighed, bone weary. "I've no idea why you couldn't play for Seigaku. We all wondered the same thing. Then the next year, you wouldn't say a word to us. You just let Urayama chat your ear off while your stupid team beat mine to a pulp," Kirihara pouted, "We had to find out from him that you didn't get into Seigaku quickly enough, that it wasn't on our part that you didn't play for Seigaku in the Nationals the year before."

Ryoma was a little annoyed. He could have blamed it all on Yukimura's lackeys, but it turned out that they had tried to help him? How embarrassing. He had been ready to place the blame at Kirihara's feet for stopping his admission to Seigaku, but he knew it was irrational. They had nothing to do with it. "I wondered if it was purely by chance that the admission decision was halted until school resumed or if you guys had a hand in it…" Logically, Ryoma remembered that Seigaku had a legitimate reasons for accepting him as quickly as he would have liked it. But sometimes he was allowed to think emotionally.

"Nope, we did nothing. If anything, you should be thanking us, or you wouldn't have been able to leave Rikkai at all until the start of the school year. And what really stopped you from entering Seigaku as soon as possible anyway?" How embarrassing, Ryoma thought. There was no way he'd tell him why he had worked so hard and still failed.

"His age," Fuji said solemnly. Kirihara twitched, probably forgetting that the genius was there at all. Ryoma wasn't surprised; he had gotten used to noticing the silent ones. But he didn't think that Fuji would tell Kirihara everything he wanted to know.

"Most schools in Japan are very strict about not letting students skip grades, and the cut off for Echizen-kun's grade was quite a few months off," Fuji finished. Ryoma glared at his senpai, hoping that no other information had passed between them when he wasn't there. What would they have talked about if Kirihara had arrived earlier?

It was a terribly high-pitched tone that interrupted their conversation. Not even a song, as most cell phones had nowadays, but a standard boring ring tone. Kirihara pulled out a sleek black cell phone, a fancy one that Ryoma imagined had planners and internet and all sorts of useless gadgets on it. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," Kirihara said, and stood from his chair. The man actually walked out of the diner into the oppressive dark of night to take his call.

"He's different," Ryoma said, waiting only a second after the door closed behind Kirihara.

"Is it a good different?" Fuji-senpai asked.

Ryoma couldn't tell. Kirihara was less explosive. He hadn't once slammed his hands down or jumped up in anger. And the insults were at a minimum, almost nonexistent. "Yeah, I guess it is a good different. But now I'm not sure if that's Kirihara at all."

Fuji-senpai poured more habushu into his glass and tried to offer some to Ryoma. "No? Okay," and downed the whole thing with a smile and a satisfied sigh. "I met him at the trains. He was drunk."

Ryoma really didn't want to hear this. "So?" But his curiosity go the better of him.

"So the only hotel nearby was a love hotel which was awkward since he was passed out by then and it does not look good when you arrive at one of those establishments with an unconscious guy."

The bells. "Why are you telling him this story?" Kirihara groaned as he came back in. He stood by the booth, not taking his seat. Maybe he was offended enough to leave. Ryoma could hope.

Fuji-senpai responded with one of his brightest smiles, the kind that killed grudges and ended wars. "I thought it pertinent."

"Well, tell him whatever you like. I have to go back to the office."

"Really? It's almost one in the morning," Ryoma reminded him. Who worked until one in the morning?

Kirihara rolled his eyes. "It happens," he said, shrugging it off. He pulled his blazer off the back of the chair, though Ryoma had never noticed him taking it off in the first place. "Well, Echizen, this reunion wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Actually, it was pretty good."

"Really?" Ryoma didn't think it went that well.

"Yeah. I didn't throw anything, you didn't throw anything, we didn't shout or argue, and I didn't throw up. So all in all, not too bad. Doesn't mean I want to meet up with you again. I'd rather not, actually. This is enough for me." So turning, he donned his jacket and looked straight at Fuji-senpai. He extended his right hand for Fuji to shake, and genuinely smiled when Fuji took it in a firm farewell handshake. "I must thank you again, Fuji-san."

"My pleasure, Kirihara-san. Always here to help."

And with that, Kirihara left, the chimes singing behind him.

"You fixed him," Ryoma stated, his eyes still watching the bells half-heartedly ring.

Fuji crossed his arms and nodded, more to himself than for Ryoma's benefit. "Not fixed. But talking it out with a trained professional has really helped him."

"Does Kirihara know that you're not licensed to be a psychotherapist?"

Fuji looked offended. "Just because I'm not licensed doesn't mean I'm not qualified, Ochibi-chan."

"Sitting in on my psychology class for one afternoon does not make you qualified, Fuji-senpai."

"And getting a masters in it does?"

"Well, yes."

"I disagree."

"Doesn't matter if you disagree. It's the way the world works." Ryoma should have known that Fuji wouldn't let him have the last word. The inane conversation continued on through the night until Ryoma felt it was okay for him to let his eyes rest for a little while. Jet lag. But Fuji continued talking, his soft voice floating on the air as he drifted off...

"I know you're sleeping, Ochibi, but you're so cute like that." Fuji-senpai? Sounded like his voice. "Did you know you snore? Hm. Minato-san left quite a while ago, since he trusts you to lock up. I'll remind you whem you wake. You really handle donigh splendilly, bedda than I woul' have thoughd. Kirriharra really beneftd fromthiswholeconversashun, an Ithinkyoosotoo whi silr musfoph rlo…"

Ryoma looked around. Oh, the courts. The Nationals? No, he was at Rikkaidai. And there was Yukimura, across the net. His face twisted into a hateful sneer, the likes of which Ryoma couldn't have imagined. This was a memory. "You might've won this, Echizen, but your damned foolish team will never take the Nationals from Rikkaidai!" He was angry.

Ryoma was in shock. Had he won? Really? He won against the Child of God. Wow. He remembered this feeling, this triumphant feeling. But it was a feeling of loss. Because that boy across the court was supposed to be his captain. He was supposed to be supportive and caring, and Ryoma had realized over the course of their game that Yukimura was neither.

And even though he played against Yukimura, he had found the third door, hadn't he?

Fun. It sounded ridiculous, but it was true. "Fun…" he muttered to himself.

"Ochibi? Are you awake?" A breeze across his bangs. "I guess not. You know, the only bad thing about you sleeping?" Ryoam could feel himself gaining awareness. "I can't see your eyes. You have no idea how expressive your eyes are. The moment I met you, I could tell there was something we could do to help. And I was willing to let them help you. Did they? At all?"

They made me stronger, didn't they? Then did Seigaku make me weak? It had been years since he graduated, and Ryoma still asked himself, what if? What if he stayed at Rikkaidai? What if he had started at Seigaku? What if this reality had never happened?

"Don't worry, Echizen-kun. I'll stay until you wake up. Or until the sun rises. Then, you'll have to get up or else Minato-san will surely kill me." Chuckle.

No, Seigaku made him stronger.

"Yo Echizen."

Ryoma turned around, and there was Kirihara. Young, happy, energetic. His hair was messy as always and his eyes were bright, excited. "We still on for Saturday? Marui-senpai and Jackal-senpai want to come too."

Ryoma was nervous. An excuse, he needed an excuse. "You don't think Yukimura-buchou will be annoyed that we're not practicing?"

Kirihara waved his hand in dismissal. "Buchou won't mind. Remember, he wanted us to have fun since we worked so hard to win Nationals."

"But still, to slack off…"

Kirihara slung his arm over Ryoma's shoulders, and for some reason, he didn't mind. Everything felt right. "You worry too much, Echizen-kun. You don't see me worrying, right?"

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "And that's why you're failing English, my friend. I'd be better off studying on Saturday," Ryoma quickly changed the subject. "No, I think I ought to stay home, since you know…" Everything was getting closer to the truth.

Kirihara sent him an empathetic smile. "I do know. Really, I do. But sometimes you gotta get out and have some fun instead of wasting away in that apartment of yours. You know what, bring your mom too. It's a good movie for all ages."

Ryoma really had no way to excuse himself now without giving Kirihara the real truth. He hesitated in his step and finally just stopped walking.

"Hey Echizen-kun, if it's about money, you know we always got your back-"

"I'm tired of having to rely on you guys! I can take care of myself, I'm not weak. You don't always have to butt in where you're not needed," Ryoma said, since Kirihara had finally reached the heart of the matter. He started walking again, with quicker steps this time, because he didn't want Kirihara to see him so embarrassed.

But Kirihara grabbed his wrist, stopping him mid-step. "It's not weak to rely on your friends. We're here for you, just like you all are there for me when I need it. Stop being so arrogant for once, and realize that you don't need to do everything alone when there are people to help you!"

Ryoma felt himself jerk a bit, but still stood there, someone's hand on his wrist. Or was he sitting? He felt himself hover for a second, realizing that he must have been dreaming. Of another universe, maybe. Another life that Ryoma never had. But he couldn't change it. He had moved on from Rikkaidai, even from Seigaku. He was older and wiser, but still, sometimes Ryoma felt that he needed people like Fuji-senpai who continued to mutter into the night.

Standing amongst the people of his past, Ryoma stared forward. And even then, the bells that followed the man he knew as Kirihara were mixed with drums beating and horns blaring.

Notes: It's all over, folks. Hope you enjoyed the ride. And I hope you're not too angry about me not going too deeply into the Yukimura/Echizen game. I rather like this ending, and I wonder how many people could have predicted it. (But really, I'm aiming for some realism. Having Ryoma play for Seigaku and win would be too perfect, and I thrive on angst). I must give out thank yous to all the reviewers of previous chapters who kept me writing. For the one-time reviewers, thank you: Rawrsaysthefrickin'dinosaur, HarryPotterObsessed44, loveless0097, alchino, abandoned-angel-of-fire, lolgirl607, Babag, Purple-flavored-gum my bear, haruhi, BlackTimberWolf, 10-iz4, Latd1, yuki, Tsubame0104, pchan, Anonymous, larigato, Serebabe, Curious reader, BleuFleur, LFan4Ever, VersarFfion, wtfh, ghostdevil13, Ishkabod, ice flow, moonlightskymist, MysteriousEyez, KitsuneNaru

People who reviewed between 2 and 4 times: LxLightDeathNote. Kpopluvr, ryoka-chan, hikaru, Lyricalia, rianifitria, itachifangirl12424, fallenangel19413, Thai Tea Addict, gossipgirl21, FiOeX, Shulamit, Mimi, skidney1, Dark Crystal Usagi, aikenichi11, Doseimotsuko, Itachisgurl93, tvsk75

5 and 6-time and reviewers: Huginn et Muninn, Kina-san, Nameless Little Girl, EdxWinry6789, Clow Angel, Reviewer, skepsis66, Amy-sama90, fasyahime, Pri-Chan 1410

7, 8, 9 and 10-time reviewers: Me (10), DarkAndStormyNight (9), denizen of the night (9), what the gaaah (8), Polaroid Fixation (7; your long reviewers need a special mention, since I really, really loved them), Full Manga Alchemist (7)

People who really stuck with me!: hysterical laughter (14), HiKaRi-ChIbI (13), Lucathia Rykatu (13), hyperdude (12), .rain (12), soni-chan (11), tsub4ki (11; also, thank you for your help with my computer)

Sorry for the super long author's note. There will not be a sequel, sorry! But there might be a companion piece focusing solely on Kirihara and Fuji, again no pairings. I also might start working on an Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic about Zuko, but we'll see. Hopefully I see some of you readers again. And a huge thank you to anyone who has spent time leaving a review or reading my story.