Remembrance

Atobe didn't expect anyone to remember his birthday.

He's alone.

There's nothing really surprising about that. In a sense, he has been alone, for too long. He sighs, takes off his reading glasses and places them next to his buzzing computer. He massages his temples, trying to relax, take a sort break, anything.

The office is too big and too… airy. He is surprised at himself – he wasn't one to complain at something that was perfectly fine. He had asked for everything in this room, down to the expensively made English brand pen that was sitting in his suit pocket.

His room is soundproof, and that itself is a double edged sward. He sighs inwardly. He's meant to be one of the richest people in the world, yet he feels so trapped.

What was he thinking?

He decides it was alright to get up and walk about. His feet felt too stiff from sitting at a desk all day. No, no these legs, these feet weren't made for sitting at a desk, rotting without exercise. No, these legs of his were meant to take him places; take him to the highest peak of the tennis world, and just that thought sends him thinking to what could be but then reality always crashes through those dreams.

He doesn't have time for that any more, he's the new owner of the Atobe line of companies, a fate he had never chosen, but could not curse at either way. Because he is who he is, he was able to do remarkable things. One of the things he was too proud of was being Hyotei Gakuen's legendary captain; his name would be forever remembered, like the rest of the males that took part with him making a new line of excellence in tennis.

Like that disgusting little brat that dared provoke him.

A wide smirk grew on his face, and he picked up the nearest pen on his too big desk and started tapping on it. The clear sound resonated through the airy room.

He sinks back into his black leather chair, definitely more expensive than it made out. He did some simple neck stretches and spun around 180 degrees to face his giant window of a wall.

Atobe snorted at the scene outside. Buildings, reaching high toward the sky towered. He was pretty sure most of the buildings were part of his line of companies. Cars went by, stopping and starting at the traffic light's command. Cars that were driving around were all cars belonging to show offs.

Then his mind thinks back to ten years ago; his driver drove past the streets of commoners. A large shopping centre there, a few fast food chains, a couple of food stands, bustling people, a few gawking at his excellent car. Of course, Atobe had to have the best cars. If he didn't have the best, who would?

Atobe scoffed, but at what he can't really put his finger on.

He growls when a sharp knock interrupted his thoughts. He snaps at whoever it was to come in.

He's surprised to hear more than one set of footsteps. Wait… four… five? No, seven? This wasn't a god damn meeting!

He was about to inform them of that when he heard party poppers going off at around the same time. The faces that were in his room surprises him. Surprises him a great deal.

The man who he hadn't seen in years, even, is holding a large cake. His blue hair is shining under his brilliant lighting.

It's… oddly fitting. The silence broke within seconds when a man with soft honey brown hair started jumping with glee and asking him if he liked it, just like it was ten years ago.

Ten… years ago.

The cake, as he could see from where he was sitting, was decorated with roses, and a stream of memories shot though his brain like a bullet. He really didn't want to see them go.

"So, I'm guessing you like it?" Oshitari's voice is the same as he remembers. A large smirk decorates his face.

And all the rest of his appointments were deemed unimportant after that.

Atobe might be OOC since I haven't wrote PoT for too long. I couldn't miss his birthday though, it's not right! Atobe needs more love. He's amazing, he is. One of my favourate characters.

Written on: 4/10/10