This is the sequel to 'A match every week.' Consider it part two of three. If you haven't read that already, you probably should, because otherwise this won't make any sense at all.

TWO YEARS AGO:

The rain started pouring out of nowhere.

It went from drizzling to pouring buckets in only a few seconds. Fuji stopped running for the ball midway – there was no point in it now - and let it bounce and skid somewhere behind him. On the other side of the court he could see Echizen's look of absolute horror, like he couldn't believe the rain had dared to start.

Fuji raised a hand to cover his head, even though he was fully drenched. He vaguely heard the referee shouting something. 'Rain – match – postponed.'

Echizen didn't move from his spot. He was glaring at him now, like everything was Fuji's fault.

Fuji shook his head and made his way off the court. His team was waiting for him, all of them looking put out. Yukimura had wanted victory and he'd wanted it fast.

"Here," Marui said, handing him a towel.

"Thanks."

"This wouldn't have been a problem if you'd finished the match faster," Kirihara said, grumbling.

"You couldn't beat him after injuring him, Kirihara," Fuji said, not even meaning to insult him for once. It was true, Kirihara had cracked the boy's knee and had still lost to him.

Kirihara growled.

In the distance he could see Echizen's coach screaming at him as he made his way to the sidelines. Something about colds and pneumonia and something. Tezuka patted him on the head once and handed him a towel. The rest of his team barely looked at him.

"Let's go," Sanada said, looking at his watch. "If we leave now we can meet Yukimura before visiting hours are over."

"He's going to kick us out if we show up without the trophy," Marui said quietly. There were mumbles of agreement.

"Tarundoru!" Sanada shouted, looking very worried himself.

"I'm going home," Fuji said, sitting down with the towel over his head. "I'm tired. Sorry. I'll see him tomorrow." The thought of going all the way across the city to sit through one of his captain's psychotic episodes wasn't appealing at all.

Sanada frowned, but nodded. "Get some rest." Then they were gone.

The stadium was in confusion, with everyone trying to leave at once. Fuji looked around for Tezuka again. He spotted him walking in his direction, so he smiled and waved.

"You played well," Tezuka said, sitting down next to him.

Fuji smiled. "I've barely kept my lead. Your freshman really is something."

Tezuka looked proud. "He is, isn't he."

There was a comfortable pause in the conversation.

"You don't normally go all out like that," Tezuka said at last.

Fuji shrugged. "What can I say? It was fun."

Fun wasn't something they still got at Rikkai, not with their captain so insane.

Fuji sat in the backseat of his sister's car, looking out the window when he spotted Echizen on his bicycle. He was wearing a thick rain coat with the hood pulled over his head, and it took Fuji a moment to recognize him. He was on the sidewalk, barely keeping steady – actually, barely even looking at where he was going. He skidded in every direction and glared steadily at the ground.

Fuji rolled down the car window, asking his sister to slow down. "Echizen!"

The boy looked up, alarmed, abruptly hitting the brakes. "Fuji?" He raised his hood slightly to get a better look.

Fuji smiled at him. "Do you want a ride?"

Echizen looked suspicious. "...why?"

"Because at this rate you're going to crash into a wall."

Echizen scowled. "I'm fine."

"The roads are too slippery. It's not safe." It was a miracle that his team had let him make it on his own after such a match. He'd seen them all get into cars. Couldn't have hurt them to take him with them.

"I'm fine," Echizen repeated.

"No, you're not," Fuji said, giving him a glare of his own. "If you die along the way I'll win by default tomorrow. And that's no fun. If you get in the car you'll at least have a fighting chance."

Echizen's glare intensified. He might have looked intimidating if Fuji was any lesser person. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said at last, bringing his feet back up to the pedals and speeding away.

Fuji watched him go, glaring at his retreating back. He winced as Echizen tried to turn a corner, skidded, and crashed instead.

The next day, after he'd won by default but Sanada lost to Tezuka, Seigaku won the regionals, and Fuji couldn't avoid the hospital a second time. They walked to Yukimura's room without a word. There was nothing to say.

When they opened the door, he was already sitting up, deceptively calm. His voice was quiet, barely audible, but his contempt was clear.

"I can't believe you dared to show your faces to me."

No one spoke.

He raised an arm and gestured towards the door. "Get out."

Kirihara was the first one stupid enough to speak. "We're sorry, buchou, but we – "

Yukimura grabbed the lamp on his bedside table – the one Fuji had bought him – and flung it at Kirihara in a single fluid motion. Kirihara flinched but he was too late – it struck him hard on the head, sending him staggering. The lamp fell to the ground and shattered.

It took a few shocked moments for the wound to start bleeding.

The fact that no one moved to help Kirihara – actually, no one moved at all, just went to show the control Yukimura had over them. Sanada was the abusive one, not him. This show of violence was completely out of character. But no one dared question him.

Yukimura reached for the red emergency button next to him and pushed it. An alarm sounded and a nurse came hurrying in.

Yukimura turned towards her, livid and insane. "Get them out," he said, "before I kill them all."

Seigaku was celebrating at a Sushi restaurant. It was owned by one of Tezuka's childhood friends, Kawamura. Ryoma only remembered the boy's name because it was the name of the restaurant as well.

His seniors were goofing around as usual, fighting each other for food and laughing at their victory. They seemed almost drunk. Even Tezuka looked content. Ryoma sat next to him at the end of the table, poking at his food absently. He didn't get along that well with the rest of the team.

"You aren't eating," Tezuka noted, pointing at his plate.

Ryoma frowned, lifting a piece with his chopsticks. "I lost," he reminded him.

Tezuka nodded. "As you well deserved."

"I could have won."

"You could have."

"You aren't helping, buchou."

"I'm not." He dared to look amused.

Ryoma scowled and picked up another piece.

When Seigaku won the nationals, Fuji only felt cold. Numb. The cheers around him escalated into meaningless white noise.

When Yukimura stood up, shook Echizen's hand, and wished him luck, Fuji marvelled at his self control.

Once they left the courts, once he'd screamed and cursed and locked himself up in his room for days, he was reminded of his complete lack of it.

Fuji and Yukimura were the last ones in the classroom. Fuji was emptying his desk – throwing out old test papers and letters and what not. Yukimura stood at the window, watching him. His eyes held none of the warmth that they used to. They were cold, sharp, and accusing.

"You're leaving." It was a statement, not a question. "Just like that."

Fuji nodded, not looking at him. "Just like that."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Yukimura snapped.

Fuji sighed. "I'm not suited for Rikkai."

"You're not suited for Rikkai?" He looked incredulous. "You're not suited for victory? Tell me, Syusuke, have you ever lost a match in these three years?"

"I haven't." He couldn't, not with the Rikkai war cry in the background. Not with Yukimura breathing down his neck. "But you have. And look at what losing the nationals did to you."

Yukimura could look truly dangerous when he wanted to, and losing the nationals wasn't something he liked to be reminded about. Years of work, years of winning, months of driving them all to work harder than ever, and it had finally been Yukimura Seichii, the best tennis player Rikkai had ever known, who had ruined Rikkai's victorious streak.

Losing that had, to put things mildly, turned him into a bloody lunatic. Fuji wasn't so much running away from Rikkai as he was from Yukimura.

"You broke the team apart," he said quietly.

Yukimura's eyes widened, in a mix of anger and disbelief. "I broke the team apart?"

Fuji finally met his gaze, letting his anger show. "Yes, you did. You scared the hell out of everyone. We're not a team anymore, we're all just – when was the last time you had a decent conversation with any of the regulars?"

"We're here to win," Yukimura said firmly. "Nothing else."

"You're here to win," he snapped, picking his bag up and retreating towards the door. "I was here because tennis was fun. I was here because you were my best friend. But now, I won't even miss you."

He walked out and had almost shut the door behind him when he heard Yukimura scream, "You were never one of us!"

He opened the door again, furious. "And I'm grateful," he bit out, before slamming the door shut.

PRESENT:

'Karupin needs more food.'

Fuji stared at the message for a second. He was sitting on the bed in his room, sorting pictures. He considered replying, but then decided against it.

His phone pinged again a moment later. 'Actually, Karupin needs you to buy more food.'

Fuji sighed, typing a quick reply. 'No, Karupin needs more food. You need me to buy it.'

'Touché. I'll pay you for it tomorrow.'

'Fine.'

A few minutes passed. Fuji continued sorting his pictures. He'd taken an exceptionally good photo of a kid falling out of a tree. He put that aside for his portfolio.

His phone beeped. 'I drank Ponta.'

'Thank you for the update.'

He went back to sorting. Some more minutes passed. As expected, his phone beeped again.

'There's an airplane in the sky.'

Fuji sighed and picked up his phone, dialling quickly. It would be easier to call the boy and ask him what his problem was.

"Hello?" the voice sounded amused.

"Echizen, really, what do you want?"

"There's an airplane in the sky," he repeated. "I thought you'd like to see."

Fuji shifted on his bed to get closer to the window and craned his neck to look outside. It was hard to see past the other buildings, but sure enough, there was an airplane in the sky.

"Where are you?" he asked, hoping the boy was somewhere indoors. It wasn't uncommon for him to wander around so late at night.

"I don't know," was the honest reply. "Not far from home. And I know my way back."

Well, that was a small relief. At least he wasn't lost.

"I'm graduating in a month," Echizen told him.

"Yes, I'm aware." Fuji shuffled back to his initial position on the bed, shifting through his photos again. The conversation was finally getting somewhere.

"I think I should switch schools."

Fuji stopped. "...I'm sorry?"

"Maybe a boarding school. That way Nanako would be free, too."

Of all the things Fuji expected him to say, this wasn't one of them. I have too much homework, he had expected. Or, the tennis team is useless. Or even, did you talk to Tezuka today?

His words felt like a slap in the face – a boarding school? Really? – but Fuji tried to concentrate on the facts. "What brought this on?" he asked, trying to keep the shock from his voice.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, like Echizen was trying to decide whether to lie to him or not. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. "Tezuka will be my captain next year. I can't...be on his team."

Fuji repeated the words to himself, again and again. Trying to fully wrap his head around the problem. When he was done, when he'd understood, he hung up.

Everyone he knew was so childish.

He woke up early the next morning because he had cat food to buy, but he wasn't feeling any less negative towards Echizen.

The whole Tezuka-Echizen drama had gone on for too long. What annoyed Fuji the most, was that Tezuka had absolutely no reason for avoiding Echizen. Sure, Echizen had said that he probably wasn't straight, but neither was Fuji, and Tezuka talked to him fine.

No, what bothered Tezuka about Echizen was that he actually reciprocated his feelings. If there were any feelings. Teenagers were so messed up.

He was living proof. Going out early to buy cat food when he didn't even have a cat.

The supermarket was in the next block. Fuji waited to cross the road.

"Maybe I should leave the school as well," Fuji told the sidewalk. The entire point of leaving Rikkai was to avoid attachments. And here he was caught between two people, annoyed because Echizen would rather stay away from him than be on Tezuka's tennis team.

He couldn't complain, really. He had told the boy that their friendship was temporary. What with how thick Echizen's head was, it was unlikely he'd ever realize otherwise.

The signal lit up, and Fuji crossed the road, frowning to himself. Maybe it would be better if Echizen left. He could be peaceful again.

He remembered screaming I won't even miss you at Yukimura and realized, not for the first time, how wrong he had been.

He was relieved when he saw Echizen waiting at the gate after school. He was scowling, of course, but Fuji couldn't expect a happy greeting when he'd hung up on him. Heck, he couldn't expect a happy greeting ever.

"I think your face really did get stuck like that and you just haven't noticed yet," Fuji told him, handing him the bag of cat food. "Because you never tried to change your expression."

Echizen ignored him, staring at the catfood in surprise. "I didn't think you'd buy it."

"I'm mad at you, not your cat."

Echizen nodded. "Thanks," he remembered to say. "I'm going to the street courts today, so you can go on ahead."

Go on ahead with Tezuka, he meant. "Hmm. Will Yuuta be there?"

He shook his head. "Not today."

Fuji frowned. "All right. You go on then."

Echizen raised a hand slightly in farewell, heading out the gates. Fuji pulled out his camera. It wouldn't hurt to be productive while he waited for Tezuka.

The idea to change schools, on Ryoma's part, wasn't a spur of the moment decision. It really would be easier for him, and for Nanako, and probably for his parents, too. They could just stay wherever they wanted instead of pretending to come home every now and then.

And he could focus on tennis.

He didn't think that Tezuka would be stupid enough to ignore a teammate, but then again, he hadn't thought Tezuka would be stupid enough to ignore him ever. Plus, Ryoma had never been popular with the rest of the team. He'd be better off just leaving.

Fuji was a hypocrite. But his opinion didn't matter.

"Echizen?"

Ryoma stopped. Turned. Saw Atobe heading towards him.

He scowled, wrapped his scarf around him tighter, and sped off again with newfound vigour...

...only to have Atobe catch him by the collar and hold him back. He stood there, collar strained, frowning at his own misery. "What do you want, Atobe."

Atobe sounded amused. "Have you ever actually succeeded in hiding from me during your spectacular attempts to do so?"

Ryoma shrugged. "Sure," he drawled.

He hadn't actually. His life was such a failure.

He pushed Atobe's hand away from his collar. "What do you want?"

"Nothing. I just saw you passing by."

Ryoma's eyebrow twitched. "Well, now that we've both seen each other, excuse me." He turned heel and sped off again.

"Are you and Tezuka still on bad terms?" Atobe called after him, still amused.

His irritation went up a notch, but he didn't turn back. Street courts, street courts, must reach the street courts.

Atobe kept up with him easily. "You should think of switching to Hyotei next year."

Ryoma sweatdropped. "You're here to recruit me?"

Atobe shrugged. "You'd do well in Hyotei."

"With a monkey for a captain? Sure."

Atobe looked at him like he always did, like he couldn't see how he'd lived for so long without getting squished. "Maybe Rikkai Dai would be a better choice," he said dryly. "Hyotei might... end badly."

That it would. For both of them. But Rikkai Dai, there was a thought...

And because Fuji had hung up on him yesterday and he wanted to annoy him, he couldn't help but text him:

'What about Rikkai Dai?'

"You know, Tezuka," Fuji started, as they walked home together after school. It was rare for them to do this anymore – Fuji always went ahead with Echizen, and Tezuka delayed himself somehow.

"Hm?" Tezuka asked, turning towards him slightly.

"I'm gay," Fuji told him.

Tezuka stared at him blankly.

"As you well know," he felt the need to point out, "as I've told you before."

Tezuka looked even more confused. "...yes?"

"Well, I was thinking," - and here he smiled at him sweetly, because Tezuka clearly hadn't had the sense to think this through himself- "You still talk to me, don't you? Why not Echizen?"

Tezuka looked away. "It's not the same thing."

"Isn't it? I'm sure your grandfather hates me just as much."

Tezuka shook his head and refused to elaborate.

In truth, Fuji knew why. He just wanted Tezuka to admit it for himself, so that he could stop being an idiot over such a minor issue. "It's because you like him back." He didn't phrase it as a question.

Tezuka sighed. A long, exasperated sigh. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Talk to him. He deserves that much at least."

"He'll get over it, Fuji."

That he might, but he sure as hell wasn't going to stop being an idiot over it. "He's thinking about switching schools next year just to stay away from you."

Tezuka stared at him wordlessly.

"Seigaku's going to lose miserably," Fuji mused. Then, more to himself, "Yukimura will have a field day."

His phone pinged, and he shuffled in his pocket to reach it, glancing at the message.

'What about Rikkai Dai?'

Fuji's mood darkened immediately.

"I'm home," Ryoma called to the empty house.

Karupin meowed at him, swishing around his feet. Ryoma petted her absently.

He took of his shoes and made his way into the living room, flopping down face first on the couch. Karupin jumped onto his back and settled down.

"I hate my life," Ryoma told her, voice muffled by the couch.

She meowed in agreement.

"What's wrong with your life?" Ryoma asked, irritated. "You get good food and sleep and get to laze around all day."

Karupin thought about it for a moment, and meowed in agreement again.

His phone rang just then, and he fumbled awkwardly to get it out of his pocket without pushing Karupin off. He brought it up and hit speaker.

"Hello?"

"Oi, seishounen! How have ya been?"

Ryoma scowled. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Ooooooh, any pretty ladies around - " there was a muffled shout and a resounding thwack asthe phone, Ryoma assumed, was wrestled from his father.

"Hello, Ryoma," his mother said happily, as if she hadn't just half-killed her husband (or rather, as if she had). "Did you eat anything?"

"Ponta."

Rinko sighed, but didn't bother reprimanding him. They were long past that stage. "Anyway, Nanako just called. She said she's staying at a friend's house for a couple of days. For some project."

Ryoma's frown deepened. "Why didn't she call me?"

"She'll probably call you soon. I just wanted to know if you could stay with one of your friends?"

"Yeah. Sure. Okay."

"That's great! Okay, I'll call you back in a while. I love you."

"Okay."

The line went dead. Ryoma let his phone drop to the ground and shuffled into a more comfortable position to sleep in. Like hell he was staying at a friend's house. His parents would never know.

It didn't take him long to drift asleep. He slept through three phone calls and only woke up to furious knocking at his door.

"You want to go to Rikkai," Fuji said, the moment Echizen opened the door. He didn't bother containing his irritation.

The younger boy stared at him blearily, half asleep. "Huh?"

"You want to go to Rikkai because you and Tezuka can't get over some childish crush?"

Echizen blinked a few times, eyes clearing fast in shock. "What?"

"What the hell is your problem?"

"What the hell is your problem?" Echizen scowled, now fully awake. "Like you're any better than me. You ran away from Rikkai because attachments hurt?"

Fuji darkened. "You don't know what Rikkai was like."

"Yeah, well you don't know what Seigaku was like!" Echizen snapped. "You think anyone on the team gives a shit if I'm there?"

"Since when does that bother you? I thought Echizen Ryoma didn't need people in his life?"

"I thought you didn't need people in your life?" Echizen said, voice getting progressively louder and angrier. "Why does it matter to you which school I go to?"

Fuji stopped, eyes narrowed, holding his tongue. "You need someone to follow around, don't you? First Tezuka, then me. You're not getting someone like that at Rikkai."

There was an ugly silence for a moment.

"I don't need a friend any more than you do," Echizen finally said, deceptively calm, before taking a step back and shutting the door in Fuji's face.

Fuji stayed at the doorstep, staring at the door long after he'd left.

Fuji had seen Echizen around the campus before. It was hard to miss him – he was the only middle schooler who turned up so often. He followed his captain around like he was his sole reason for living, and Fuji was pretty sure he was in love.

The first time he'd seen Echizen waiting for Tezuka at the gate, it hadn't felt real. After the match against Yukimura, Echizen had been more of an idea in his head than an actual person. He'd waltzed onto the courts from the middle of nowhere, lost his senses, fallen flat on his face, then stood up and utterly defeated Yukimura, smiling the entire time. And he'd asked, again and again, 'Isn't tennis fun?'

...really. And people thought Fuji was creepy.

More than creepy, it was curious. Fuji had known all kinds of people in his life. There was Tezuka, who would sacrifice his arm to win a match. There was Kirihara, who wouldn't mind maiming his opponent for victory. There was Sanada who would make a martyr of himself to get into Yukimura's good books, and then there was Yukimura himself, who would probably slaughter an army and sacrifice his country if it meant that Rikkai Dai would win.

He'd never met someone who could go so far just because 'tennis was fun'.

Fuji watched him often. The boy turned out to be entirely unproductive. His life literally only consisted of tennis. It was a lot like Yukimura – a lot like Yukimura, but totally different in the approach. Fuji didn't know how to explain it, except that Yukimura was bloody insane and Echizen...well, wasn't.

Echizen wasn't sad, or angry – he just went about his life, played tennis when he could, and slept or leeched off of Tezuka when he couldn't.

Fuji had had no intentions of ever getting to know him. That had been an honest mistake. He'd been perfectly content to sit and watch him, to hypothesize and theorize, but what he hadn't seen coming was -

"Fuji Syusuke! Rikkai. Triple counters. I want a rematch."

And he certainly hadn't expected anything that came after that.

When Ryoma woke up the next morning (hungry, seeing double, with five minutes to get ready and no homework done), skipped a bath and his breakfast, grabbed his bag and sped out the door, he found Tezuka waiting on his doorstep.

Ryoma froze. He took a step back, shut his door, and tried opening it again. Tezuka was still there.

"...buchou?"

"You're late," Tezuka pointed out.

"Yeah, well, so are you." He looked around for Fuji. Surely he was somewhere around.

Nope, only Tezuka. "What are you doing here, buchou?" He hadn't seen him up close in months. It looked like he'd grown taller. That was unfair. Ryoma hadn't grown a lousy bit.

"A match. This Saturday." Tezuka looked uncomfortable, like he was seriously rethinking his life. He shifted, staring straight ahead.

Ryoma started. What the hell? "Why?"

Tezuka looked even more uncomfortable. "Well - "

Ryoma pushed past him, scowling. "Tell Fuji to go and - " he held his tongue. Tezuka had never tolerated swearing.

He grabbed his bike and sped off, leaving Tezuka calling after him.

"Echizen!"

Fuji had a strong sense of deja-vu.

It was raining outside. Heavily. People were running around in all kinds of chaos, shouting and whining and cheering. He sat on his desk, near the window, clicking through the pictures on his camera. Tezuka sat at his own desk, sorting through papers.

"So you talked to him," Fuji started, no emotion in his voice.

Tezuka sighed. "Barely. He left the moment he saw me."

"Well, that's expected. You have to try harder." He didn't want Echizen to be his problem anymore.

Tezuka frowned, giving him a strange look, but said nothing.

When Fuji stood to leave, he looked out of the window at the end of the corridor as per habit. The window with a clear view of the gate.

Echizen wasn't waiting for him.

Fuji wasn't kidding when he said he didn't need people in his life.

He went back to his old routine easily. No more waking up early to buy cat food when he didn't have a cat. No more running outside late at night because Echizen had wandered around and ended up lost. No more texts, phone calls, having to reach out and try to straighten that horrid scowl into something more acceptable...

It had been two weeks since Fuji had last seen Echizen. He stood at the gate, staring at the place where the boy had always waited - for someone or the other - for the past two years. Every day without fail. Rain, sunshine, or freaking tornado.

...okay, maybe not a tornado.

Fuji probably deserved an award of sorts for breaking that perfect attendance record.

As far as he had heard, Tezuka hadn't seen Echizen either. He'd tried to talk to him a couple of times, but Echizen wouldn't listen to him. Tezuka deserved an award too, for managing to make a kid who hero-worshipped him shut him out of his life entirely.

But then Echizen was an insufferable brat, so.

Fuji sighed, now glaring at the spot instead. This was his fault. He'd lost his temper for no reason. Echizen wouldn't have really gone to Rikkai – the message had been sent to annoy him. And Fuji knew that. But...well, he had panicked.

He wouldn't apologize, though. Things were better off this way. Echizen would make up with Tezuka, Fuji would stay alone forever, and everyone would be happy.

It occurred to Ryoma one day that he didn't actually know who his classmates were.

He remembered a few of them. Some kid with a loud mouth an supposed tennis experience. Another kid with pigtails. Another kid who'd locked him up in the supply closet in their second year...that was a hard one to forget.

But for the most part he didn't recognize anyone. And that didn't even bother him.

Every day, after school, he'd go straight to the street courts. He usually ran into the the Fudoumine guys. Sometimes St. Rudolph or Shitenhouji. There was always someone to play against. He'd stay at the courts till it started getting dark, and then he'd go home.

"I'm home, Karupin," he'd say.

"Meow," she'd reply.

And then his day would be over.

He hadn't seen Fuji Syusuke in weeks.

That ends part two.

I know this story progresses really, really slowly. I can't help it. I don't see Echizen or Fuji being the kind of people who'd become close quickly. I'm sorry if I'm dragging it out too much.

I wrote this story because many people mentioned that A match every week ended too abruptly, with no conclusion. This one has even less of a conclusion. The next one will, surely, have a conclusion.

I just got a bit carried away with the idea of Fuji at Rikkai.

Hope you liked it. Please review?