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Colour Me Blood Red	By : DragonBlade Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2324 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own prince of tennis, characters or ideas, and I am making no money from this

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
CHAPTER 15

Kirihara peeled off his sweatshirt slowly; blood had dried and stuck it to his skin. He hissed and stomped his feet as the cotton was ripped away, leaving his body irritated and slightly pink. He had a long night, he was allowed to be childish.

Inui inhaled sharply, “most of these will need stitches.” He frowned as he pressed softy around the wounds, “he really did a number on you, it’s a wonder these aren’t worse.”

Kirihara shrugged, “just lucky I guess.”

Inui shook his head, “lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He pulled the table with all his instruments closer.

Kirihara yelled and whimpered as the wounds were cleaned and stitched. He lost count after 20; chest, arms, thighs, and sides needed stitches. He didn’t even remember getting half of the injuries. Adrenaline was a wonderful thing.

The stitches were taped and wrapped so they wouldn’t catch on the hospital gown. His sweater was thrown out against his wishes, so he was forced to wear the light blue gown if he wanted something on his upper body. Inui had given him some extra pain killers for when the ones he was on wore off. He was also told to stay in the room for a while and try to rest.

He shifted around for roughly 45 minutes before realizing he wasn't going to fall asleep. His entire body burned with pain, but he didn’t like being on medication so he refused to take the new prescription. He knew his fears were ridiculous - it was day time after all, and he was in one of the safest buildings in the city. Unfortunately, fear doesn’t always understand logic.

He knew he had a sweater down at his desk, along with a back-up gun. That would have to do until he could get to a gun shop to pick up a new one. The nurse glared at him as he attempted to sign his name with two broken fingers.

“Maybe you should be staying?”

Kirihara smiled at the nurse, who blushed. “I’m fine, I don’t like lying around anyways.” He winked at her and left the clinic.

The fifth floor was empty, only a few hunters milling around. As soon as they saw the hospital gown they asked if he was alright. After a quick explanation about nurses stealing his shirt they left him alone. He switched the gown for his zip sweater and stuffed his back-up down the back of his jeans. He fully intended on leave the building but an open door caught his attention on his way back to the elevator. He poked his head inside the door and found the room empty. It was the large boardroom Tezuka usually held meetings in, and it looked like it had been recently used.

The white board at the far end of the room was still covered in notes, a map was tacked to the wall behind it. Chairs were still pulled away from the desk, knocked at awkward angles from people rising out of them. Kirihara walked further into the room to get a better look at what was on the map. It was a map of the city. Red pins made a complete circle in the centre of the map – the centre of the town. Upon closer inspection Kirihara noticed that the circle went around the street corner that the Organization was on. One red pin south west of the corner was the symbol for a small strip mall, Kirihara recognized the place – it was where Yuuta got his hair cut. Another pin, north east, was where he got his groceries. The pins must be where Hunters figured they were bumped into. He stepped back to check out the white board.

At the top, in Tezuka’s neat writing, was the name ‘Akutsu Jin’. A circle was drawn around the name with four arms branching off. The first arm, furthest to the right was another circle with ‘witch’ written in it. Shorter arms branched off to the names of the Hunters that had been attacked. The next main arm had ‘fledglings’ written in the circle, branches reached off to align with the names under ‘witch’. The last two braches were ‘Attack on Sanada’ and ‘Attack on Atobe’. Notes were written under the graph and along the branches in another hand. Kirihara picked the black sharpie out of the cradle and uncapped it. He scratched the ‘s’ off of Fledglings, and wrote a quick note about killing the blue haired fledgling – no, he couldn’t remember his name. Trying to balance the marker on broken fingers made it look like a child wrote it …which wasn’t much different than his normal writing. He capped the marker and put it back. Shuffling at the entrance to the room drew his attention. Looking back over his shoulder he found Ryoma standing next to the end of the table.

“Yo,” Kirihara turned to face his partner, grinning.

“Yo,” Ryoma nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “I went to the clinic but the nurse said you already left. She blushed when I asked, what did you do to her?”

Kirihara grinned wider, “would you believe nothing?”

Ryoma raised an eyebrow, “why did you leave anyway? You should be resting.”

“Those beds are too uncomfortable,” Kirihara shrugged. The fact that he was in too much pain to lay comfortably and too scared to stay still was something he'd rather keep to himself.

“How bad did they get you? I saw Yuuta earlier, he was shredded.”

Kirihara unzipped his sweater and held it open. His chest was a mixture of gauze patches and medical tape. His entire upper chest was wrapped around, and his sides and stomach were a collage of small patches. Peeking around the tape were black and purple bruises. Ryoma stepped closer to him, holding the sweater further away.

“These look older?”

He stepped out of Ryoma’s hand and did up the sweater, “kinda got my ass kicked while at Sanada’s lair.”

“You’re just a bad luck magnet aren’t you?”

Kirihara snorted, “you have no idea.”

“Where are you staying while your apartment is getting fixed?” Ryoma followed Kirihara out of the room.

The question caught Kirihara off guard, “uh …I don’t know? Here I guess?” He really didn’t want to, but he was low on other options.

“You can stay with me?” Ryoma said with a shrug, “my dad doesn’t mind taking in Hunters when they need help.”

Kirihara thought for a moment, did he want to? No. Did he want to stay at the Organization? Hell no. Did he need sleep? Fuck yes. He decided to go with the lesser of the evils. “Sure.”

Shinji walked out of the elevator as they were about to step in. The witch’s long hair was tied back and his usual waist length blue jacket was replaced by a black duster. He ignored the two and disappeared into the hallway to Tezuka’s office.

“Weird,” Kirihara shook his head.

Tezuka held the door open for Shinji, the witch slipped around him and seated himself at the desk.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Shinji?” Tezuka sat across from the witch, crossing his hands on the desk.

“I finally found some dark witches who would talk to me. There is an underground where information can be bought for the right price. The only coven of dark witches comes from the Southern islands …which you already told me Yukimura-san mentioned. The coven is headed by Chinen Hiroshi, they are known for being paid to do black magic for people unable or unwilling to do evil things on their own,” Shinji explained.

Tezuka nodded, “I know someone who may be able to check it out for me. Thank you Shinji, I can only imagine what it took to get that information, and I thank you.”

Outside in the morning sun Kirihara stopped, shielding his eyes. Things can only get better from here, right? Ryoma suddenly grabbed his belt and shoved his hand into his front pocket. Kirihara jumped and flailed. He heard the familiar jingle of keys and saw his car keys hanging from Ryoma’s fingers.

He pointed accusingly at him, “was that entirely necessary?”

Ryoma twirled the keys around his finger, “would you have given them to me if I had asked for them?”

Kirihara opened his mouth to say yes, but Ryoma’s doubtful expression stopped him, “no, I wouldn’t have.”

“Then it was necessary.”

“Why? Don’t you have your own car?”

Ryoma shrugged, “nope, I use the old man’s car once in a while, but I usually just bum a ride from Momo. Either that or I’ll just bus to your place.”

“Oh …and why did you take my keys?”

“Because you’re not fit to drive, and you’re treating me to an early dinner.”

“I’m fine to-wait, what?”

“Senpai’s treat,” Ryoma turned on his heel and weaved through the few cars around them to Kirihara’s car. “Kawamura sushi okay?”

Kirihara sighed and followed the Rookie, “yeah, it’s fine,” did he really have a choice in the matter?

He slid gingerly into the passenger seat, all injuries reminding him at once where they were. He had been beaten up so many times in the past few days that he could no longer remember which injury was from when. He really wanted to find that ‘please kick my ass’ sign fate stuck on him.

Ryoma watched his partner shift around until he was comfortable, “maybe we should just go to my place so you can lie down?”

Kirihara’s stomach rumbled; he couldn’t remember the last time he ate, “no, I’m fine, seriously. I’m hungry so let’s just go.”

Ryoma’s gold eyes studied him before he shrugged and started the car.

The shop was crowded when they entered and with a small smile Kawamura directed them to a further table. His ever present smile was wilted and empty, his naturally tanned skin had a grayish tinge. His eyes were dull and rimmed by dark circles.

He smiled brighter at their worried looks. “It’s close to the full moon,” he shrugged.

Ryoma smiled back, “Kawamura-san doesn’t like to make people worry.”

Kawamura chuckled, “no, especially not over needless things. It's aways like this before the full moon. I’ll be staying at the Organization for a little while soon, there are people there to keep me company. Nothing to worry about.” He turned when his father called his name.

Ryoma leaned across the table, “I hear Fuji has taken a liking to him.”

“Not surprised, Fuji takes a liking to anything with a pe-“

“Oi!” Ryoma shushed him when Kawamura came back to the table to see what they wanted.

Kirihara stared forlorn at his empty wallet; for such a small kid, Ryoma could sure pack it away. He slipped it back into his pocket with a sigh and climbed into the car.

“Seriously, where do you put it all?”

“My second stomach.”

After that the car ride remained quiet, apart from the dull hum of the radio and Ryoma’s occasional thrum of fingers against the steering wheel. The medication had worked its way completely out of Kirihara’s system and his entire body burned with pain. He breathed deeply though his nose, trying to focus on something other than the pain. The less he moved, the less it hurt. Unfortunately, that only worked in theory. Between the natural movements of his chest when breathing and the vibrations from the car his body felt like it was in constant motion.

The car traveled deeper into Suburbia than Kirihara ever went. The houses were large, backyards gigantic, front yards immaculate. A woman power-walking with a small lap dog glanced at the car as they passed.

“You live here?”

Ryoma shrugged, “yeah. Momo is a few blocks away and Kaidoh lives, like, five houses down from him.”

“No shit,” Kirihara shook his head; there was something wrong about a Hunter living in a neighborhood like this.

“They live with their parents though, right?”

Ryoma pulled into his driveway, “yeah, they’ve both got younger siblings that are still in school. So they’re at home to help out.” He threw the keys over the roof of the car to Kirihara.

Kirihara hesitated at the front walkway. The house was huge, and it was the house of the famous Echizen Nanjiroh.

Ryoma glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow, “you can come in …”

Kirihara followed the Rookie into the dim, warm house. A white Himalayan stretched out on the floor in a pool of sunlight. It lifted its head and cooed softly at Ryoma. Kirihara toed off his shoes and quietly announced himself. He wasn’t used to using formal manners, but the house made him feel like it was required.

“RYOMA-SAMA!”

The cat jumped and dashed up the stairs with an indignant yowl. Echizen Nanjiroh slid out of an adjacent room, brown robes fluttering. He pointed a paper fan at Ryoma, opposite hand curled along his mouth in a feminine fashion.

“Eya~a! Ryoma-sama is bringing home strange men! Eya~aa!”

“This is Kirihara Akaya,” Ryoma gestured behind himself in Kirihara’s general direction.

Nanjiroh stopped squealing, face falling startled before settling into a knowing grin. His eyes burned with an intelligence that was easily looked over with his flamboyant attitude. Kirihara knew instantly that Echizen Nanjiroh was not the kind of person you wanted to be on the wrong side of.

“He bought me dinner.”

That set Nanjiroh into an all new set of squeals. Ryoma gestured for Kirihara to follow him up the stairs. He glanced back at Kirihara, “yes, he is always like that.”

Kirihara smirked.

The upper hallway was dark, the sun had set low enough to cast an orange glow over everything. It was the kind of glow that was both dark and light, where your eyes aren’t sure how to focus. Ryoma pressed his hand to a door, pushing it open a touch.

“This is your room for as long as you need,” he pointed across the hall to another door, “my room.”

He didn’t like the look Ryoma was giving him, it was almost too innocent. He wanted to ask what Ryoma was thinking, but, on second thought, he was pretty sure he really didn’t want to know.

Ryoma left him long enough to drop his bag beside the bed, the police had at least let him pack a small bag before he was escorted out. He hesitated with his weapons, even thought the Echizen house rivaled the Organization for safety, he didn’t want to be without his gun. It was probably bad manners to walk around someone’s home with a weapon, but it was getting close to dark. Manners or paranoia, it was a tough decision.

Ryoma appeared back in the doorway as he was slipping an extra blade under his pillow. His gun was stuffed snugly down the front of his jeans.

“Old man just put on a movie, wants us to watch it with him,” Ryoma shrugged.

Kirihara nodded and followed the Rookie back to the main floor. The ex-Hunter was sprawled on the floor in front of the television, a bowl of popcorn tucked against his stomach. Kirihara caught a glimpse of a woman in the kitchen, her brown hair tied up in a bun.

Ryoma noticed his glance and said, “my mom. She’s a witch too, belongs to the same coven as Shinji-san.”

“Wow,” Kirihara’s eyes widened.

Ryoma shrugged and sat down against the far wall, finding a piece of popcorn to flick at the cat. It growled when Kirihara passed to close, the fur around its neck bristling.

“Ryoma, put Karupin in the other room,” Nanjiroh spoke without turning, his voice holding none of his earlier humor.

The Rookie lifted the cat, tucking it against his shoulder as he took it upstairs. Kirihara watched the cat, a frown creased between his eyebrows.

Okay, what the fuck?

He noticed Ryoma’s mother watching him, her face lighting up in a smile when he looked at her. Even though she had masked it quickly, he hadn't missed the dark look she was giving him. She had been studying him, almost like she was expecting something - something bad.

“I’m tired, I’m going to call it an early night,” he turned quickly and followed Ryoma back upstairs.

Nanjiroh twisted enough to give his wife a look, one that was clearly not impressed. Rinko shrugged, she had lived with Nanjiroh too long to be intimidated by him.

“You allowed him into my house Nanjiroh.”

“He’s not a danger, he’s just a kid.”

“A kid that-“

Nanjiroh glanced at the stairs to let her know they were no longer alone. Ryoma checked around the room before frowning at his father.

“Ryoma-sama! Watch the movie with me! Kirihara-kun has abandoned me!”

Ryoma snorted and settled back against the wall.
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Colour Me Blood Red