Title: Found
Fandom: Prince of Tennis: Fudomine Chuugaku
Characters: Kamio Akira, Saeki Kojirou, Tachibana An, Tachibana Kippei
Prompt: 013 - Yellow
Word Count: 1100
Date finished: 08/23/2007
Rating: G
Summary: Kamio lives in fear.
Author's Notes: This came from the CPG again - "Saeki Kojirou / Kamio Akira - Roses". The idea showed up as I was getting dressed, and I had to tweak it a bit to make it work (I mean, I had to have a real reason for Kamio to leave). But here it is.
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Konomi Takeshi, and whoever did the anime. At any rate, it's not me.

Kamio Akira stopped on the stairs in the apartment building, staring at those roses, afraid of what it might mean.

The fear was nothing new; he barely managed to exist day-to-day, and he wasn't sure how he managed to keep his job. At least he didn't have to interact with customers on a regular basis.

As he stood there, staring at the roses, something stirred in his mind, a memory surfacing - the face of a girl he'd known. Cute, with shoulder-length brown hair held back from her face by clips, ever smiling, and his name on her lips….

"Kamio?"

The memory of her always brought a wave of terror - and the voice, very much present and right next to him, took the edge off his fear. He was caught between those for an instant before he tucked that memory again, and everything eased. "Ah, Saeki." He sounded like he'd been running a marathon.

"What are you doing out here?"

Saeki Kojirou knew nothing of the truth. Akira took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. "Panic attack," he lied - the same lie he'd been saying for all the years they'd been roommates.

"The roses?" He sounded faintly incredulous.

"I… think so." It had been a bouquet… No. Not thinking of that.

"Better now?"

"I… How many are there?"

Saeki have him a curious look, but they'd been roommates a long time, so he was used to the strangeness around Akira's so-called panic attacks - or at least, he seemed to be. He certainly didn't question any more. He climbed the rest of the stairs and lifted the vase, counting silently. "22. Strange number," he added, and opened the envelop. "It doesn't say anything."

Akira couldn't make his feet move. "Nothing? Does it have a name on it?"

Saeki checked the small envelop. "No. It's our address, though." He hesitated. "Do you want me to get rid of them?"

"N-no." That sounded convincing, he nearly muttered out loud.

Juggling the flowers and his briefcase, Saeki unlocked the door. "You don't sound very convincing," he said, his words echoing Akira's thoughts.

"Keep them in your room. O-one of us should enjoy them." He didn't know why he wanted to keep them, only that they meant something to him, something important - even if he couldn't (wouldn't) let himself remember what.

Saeki smiled. "I will. Thanks."

Once the roses were out of Akira's sight he could move again, and he finished mounting the stairs, closing and locking the door behind him.

Later that evening, his constant fear eased by the familiar surroundings, he noticed a stray, small envelope from the table - the envelope from the roses. He hestated, afraid - but then, he was always scared, and he wanted the courage for this. It was just an envelope! His fingertips tingled from the contact as he picked it up, and he dropped it back to table, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

To late. He'd been found.

He retreated to his room, closing and locking the door - for all the good it would do him - and huddled on his bed, arms wrapped around his knees pulled to his chest. Now came the hard part: waiting to see who had found him.

She came through the door like it wasn't there - it wasn't much of a barrier, two thin pieces of pressed wood, easy to phase through - and stood in the middle of his room, exactly like he remembered her. "An," he murmured, and then he shrank back in terror, burying his face in his knees, trembling, waiting for the blow from her father to fall.

"Akira," she said, and the pain in her voice made him cringe. "Akira, what's wrong?"

He gathered every bit of courage, even as the induced terror ate at him. "Your… your f-father said…."

"My father did this?" she interrupted, and then her voice changed, reaching through space. "Kippei? Please?"

Akira didn't look up, but he knew when An's brother arrived, shortly after her call. "So, she found you," he said, disdain obvious in his voice, but then it softened to incomprehension. "An, a coward?"

"He said father did this to him. Please, just Look at him."

Silence fell, then a sharp inhalation broke it. "I'm sorry," Kippei said gently. "I misspoke."

Akira was too terrified to say anything, curling tighter. He'd been threatened with worse than what he'd lived through, if he ever saw An again. Honestly, he couldn't think of anything worse than living in abject terror, which only made the threat worse.

"He told me Akira was a coward," Kippei murmured softly. "But I didn't expect this."

"Can you… undo it?" An asked

"I don't see why not."

Kippei lay a hand on his head, and after a moment something in his mind shifted. The terror just… melted away, and he lifted his head as Kippei moved his hand. "My father is dead," Kippei told Akira as he uncurled. "I do not have the same prejudices he did. I hope you can forgive him - me - enough to come home." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and phased through the door.

Slowly, Akira stood, stretching out his senses, so long confined. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

An smiled, radiant, and it stole his breath. "Sorry for what?" she asked, and reached for his hand.

"That I took so long to have the courage to do… anything." His fingers curled around hers.

An shook her head. "I know what my father was capable of," she assured him. "Will you come home?"

"Yes." To be with her, anything.

"Then let's go."

He dared, then, to lean over and kiss her. "There's one thing I need to do before we go."

He remembered, at least, to unlock his bedroom door and leave his keys on the table before they left the apartment.

Saeki Kojirou left his room to find a note from his roommate on the kitchen table, next to the keys.

Thanks for your help. Gone home. Sell my things - it will help a little to pay the bills.
Kamio Akira

It was strange, but worse things had happened, and as long as Kamio wasn't dead….

He checked the apartment, but there was no sign of his roommate. With a shrug, he dismissed it as another incident in a long string of weirdness, and went back into his room to get ready for the day.

The sunlight on the roses drew his eyes to them, and he gasped.

The yellow roses were gold.

Fudomine Table | Challenge Main

Home | Stories | Links | Contact me