An Idiot's Guide to Ectopic Birth

"Kamio." Atobe's voice was soft as he put an arm around Kamio's waist. An arm that Kamio would normally protest, but he was beginning to get dizzy again. "You must have had a hectic day so far. I'll have some one drive you home.

Kamio was practically buried in Atobe's chest now, he was leaning so far towards the other boy. "I don't need. . ."

But then Atobe was gone, Kamio leaning into empty space for a moment before straightening himself. He watched Atobe's back as they boy left with his father and army of lawyers. With each step Atobe took away from him, Kamio could feel himself becoming more clear-headed.

Kamio brought his hands to his cheeks, feeling the flushed skin there. Shinji had said that Atobe gave off a lot of pheromones, but it was still embarrassing to react so strongly to them. Added to that was the confusion Kamio was feeling due to the fact that Atobe was actually being a little bit nice to him.

"Kamio-san."

Kamio looked up at the voice. There was a man in front of him, smiling gently.

"If you'd like to go home now, there's a car waiting outside."

"I can walk," Kamio muttered, cringing as he realized how rude it might have sounded.

"Oh, no, the Atobe family insists. If you'll just follow me."

Kamio followed the man out of the hotel, and climbed into a silver mercedes that was waiting there. Soon enough he was back at home, taking off his shoes and stumbling into the kitchen.

"I'm home," he mumbled.

His mother, who was stirring something on the stove top, replied with a "welcome home." She turned around, the pot in her hands. . . only to drop it in surprise as she caught sight of Kamio.

"Mom!" Kamio exclaimed, as soup spilled all over the floor. But his mom was still looking at him with huge eyes that were starting to tear up.

"Akira," she said, sounding as though she were about to cry, "I thought we raised you better than that."

Kamio could almost cry himself, he was so confused. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Kamio Akira," she snapped, hands coming up to wipe her eyes, "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No. . . I really don't."

"I'm talking about your virginity! You're too young to be having sex!"

Kamio could feel all the color drain out of his face as some mixture of fear, guilt, embarrassment, and shame flooded through him. How. . . how did his mother know? She was full out crying now, muttering something about being an awful mother.

"Umm. . . Mom," Kamio said, "I think you have to explain some things to me."

After awhile Kamio managed to calm his mother down and have her sit down at the kitchen table with him. Tears were still running down her cheeks, but at least she wasn't crying so much that she couldn't talk.

"You see," she started, "every person has what is called a kon-gen. That kon-gen is your soul's appearance. For most people, who are descended from monkeys, their kon-gen is a monkey. But there are people who are descended from other animals; these people are called madararui. I'm an eel, and your father is a dog. Only madararui can see other people in their kon-gen form, since we're more in tune with our animal sides than monkeys. Of course, most of us control our kon-gen so we always look like people, but we can revert into our kon-gen, to various degrees, depending on how weak or emotional we are at the moment. For us, this could range from releasing an eel-like aura, to walking around with gills, to completely turning into an eel, and everything in between.

"The eel is actually a rare species in the world. All mer-species are. Because of this we're sought after. When you were born, we took you to a specialist in order to protect you from kidnappers. He put a spell on you so that you would always appear as a monkey, until you met your first mate."

Here his mother broke out sobbing again. "And now, at such a tender age, you have!"

Kamio's head was spinning. He was glad that Shinji had explained part of it to him before, so that he wasn't completely lost in his mother's speech.

"Who. . . who is he?" his mother asked, in between sobs.

Kamio turned bright red for the umpteenth time that day. He considered not telling her, or lying, but in the end figured his mother was upset enough as it was.

"Atobe," he managed to mutter, completely embarrassed.

Suddenly his mother's tears had completely dried up.

"As in Atobe, your tutor? As in Atobe Keigo from the Atobe family?" She was practically beaming at him now, a smile spreading across her face. "Well, in that case, I wholeheartedly approve of your relationship."

She stood up and pulled a very shocked Kamio into her arms. "Don't screw this one up, Akira."

* * *

Sanada and Akaya walked to Sanada's home in silence, Akaya following about two steps behind. All of his anger had fizzled out by now, but that didn't mean he wanted to talk to the other boy. Stupid Sanada. Stupid Atobe. But mostly stupid Sanada.

As they came closer to Sanada's house Akaya could feel the hairs on the back stand up. He shivered, knowing what it meant. . . Sanada-san must be home. Sanada's father was an older, bigger version of the two Sanada brothers. The feline aura he gave off was so intimidating that Akaya got scared even being in his presence, despite the fact that Sanada-san had never really done or said anything to him.

Sure enough, they were taking their shoes off when Sanada-san came into the front hallway.

"Genichirou." Sanada and Akaya froze, every muscle tense. Sanada-san's face was completely expressionless, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, but anger was rolling off him in waves. "I want to talk to you in my study. You too, Akaya."

The two boys didn't move until Sanada-san left the room, and then they exchanged worried glances with each other. But they went obediently to Sanada-san's study, where they both kneeled down in front of Sanada-san's low-lying table.

"Genichirou," Sanada-san started, "your antics today have shamed the Sanada family name. The merger could have been called off completely because of you. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Sanada bowed his head down, sending a little evil glare Akaya's way. "I'll contact the Atobe family right away to offer my apologies."

"There's no need. We've already come to an agreement."

Akaya's head snapped up at that, while Sanada's eyes widened imperceptibly. Sanada could feel his mouth go dry. "What. . . are the terms?"

Sanada-san leaned forward, his expression making it clear that no argument would be brokered. "There will be no marriage. But a child will be born, to solidify the bonds between the two families. You will carry it."

Sanada's expression turned white. Akaya, on the other hand, felt as though he was going to pass out from stifling his laughter so.

"There's also the matter of a mate for Keigo, since it would be unseemly for you to be seeing a retrograde while he has nothing comparable. There's a fish he's interested in. Do what you can to help him in that regard."

"Yes, sir."

"You may go now."

Sanada and Akaya nodded before leaving the room as quickly as possible without being rude. As soon as they were safely upstairs Akaya broke out laughing, leaning against the hallway wall so that he wouldn't fall over. Sanada glared darkly at him.

"Sanada-fukubuchou," he said, in between fits of laughter, "does this mean your belly's going to get big and round? And you'll have morning sickness during tennis practice? Do you want me to go to lamaze class with you?"

"Shut up, Akaya."

When Akaya wouldn't stop laughing Sanada picked him up by the back of his shirt and carried him to the bathroom, where he deposited a still chuckling Akaya underneath the shower.

"Clean up," he said, "we're going to bed."

Sanada made his way back to his bedroom, hoping that by the time Akaya finished he wouldn't be as amused by the situation. Sure enough, by the time both of them had gotten ready to go to bed, Akaya's uproarious laughter had died down to small snickers. They climbed into bed together, Akaya spooning up onto Sanada's side, those little noises muffled into Sanada's neck.

* * *

Kamio woke up in a daze. Yesterday felt like a strange, surreal dream. He wouldn't have believed it had actually happened at all, except that he still felt a little sore from his. . . run-in with Atobe. That, and as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he could definitely see a strange eel-like aura around himself. He remembered that his mother had said people could control their kon-gen, so he experimented with it, willing it to get weaker or stronger. He was only successful to some small degree.

He stumbled through school that day, not really paying attention to any of his classes or teachers. Luckily the tennis club was excused for most of the day because of the National tournament, but he stumbled through that too. It was almost as though he was sleepwalking when he beat his opponent from Makinofuji. He got off the court, Tachibana giving him a worried glance.

"Kamio," he said, his lips pulled downward in a small frown, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Kamio said, a little too quickly. "Sorry, I have to go."

And he was running off before any of his teammates decided to ask any follow-up questions. It was just that he didn't really want to talk to any of them about it. Shinji, as the only other madararui on the team, would have been the only one to understand, and Kamio wasn't in the mood to deal with his tangential mumblings today.

Still, Kamio had no idea what possessed him when he found himself at the court where Hyoutei and Shishigaku were in the middle of the match. He could see Atobe sitting on the bleachers, his arms slung out around him and legs propped up on the seats in front of him as though he owned the place. For some reason it pissed Kamio off a little bit. He took a seat far away enough that Atobe wouldn't sense him, but close enough that he could still see the other boy.

Now that Kamio was getting used to being a madararui he could clearly sense who else was one as well. While madararui were usually adept at hiding their kon-gen, they still gave off more pheromones then monkey. Also, while madararui could control their kon-gen, monkeys could not, their auras easily visible. On Hyoutei's team, Kamio now saw, every one but Atobe, Kabaji, Oshitori, and Mukahi were monkeys.

Atobe was playing singles two today. Kamio figured it was so Hyoutei could wrap up the match as soon as possible. Really, against Shishigaku, it was like a warm-up for the next round, when they would be facing Seigaku. Soon enough it was Atobe's turn to take the court, and Kamio found himself leaning forward to watch. He really was handsome, Kamio thought with a blush. His every movement was imbued with a kind of casual elegance, along with a touch of arrogance.

"Hmm. I thought I smelled something good here."

Kamio looked up to see Oshitari leering down at him.

"What the hell do you want?" Kamio muttered, his eyes narrowing.

"I just wanted to come see you for myself," Oshitari purred, sitting down beside him and, Kamio swore, sticking his nose in Kamio's hair.

Kamio jerked back, but collided with something behind him. He turned around to see a face directly next to his, two large eyes blinking at him. It was Mukahi, on his hands and knees on the bleachers as he leaned towards Kamio as well.

"Hey, are you the fishy Atobe likes?" Mukahi asked. "You're pretty cute, huh?"

"Wha-" Kamio froze, eyes wide, as he found himself sandwiched between the Hyoutei doubles team.

"You really do smell good," Mukahi said, now nuzzling his cheek. "Can I see your kon-gen? I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Kamio watched as two red cat ears popped out of Makuhi's head, a tail swishing behind him, but then Oshitari was hitting his partner lightly on the head.

"Ow." Makuhi pouted and sat back, properly, in his seat, still too close for comfort for Kamio's taste. His ears and tail were now gone.

"Don't do that in public, Gakuto."

Kamio felt Oshitari's arm wrapping around him, a hand on his shoulder, and he wondered if Fudomine would get disqualified if he punched another player. Instead, he forcibly pried Oshitari's hand off of him and all but threw it off.

"Feisty," Oshitari commented. "I like it."

"Shut up," Kamio said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I want to watch the match."

Gakuto's eyes darted to the tennis court. "Awww, how sweet. You came to watch Atobe play."

"That's not it at all!" But even to Kamio's ears the statement sounded a little too defensive. His cheeks felt like they were burning, and he sank further down in his seat. It sounded as though Gakuto was snickering at him.

"Well," Oshitari started, his gaze focused on Kamio's expression, "even if you say that, you're here. . ."

"To scout the match," Kamio said, "that's all."

Gakuto was smirking at him, looking like a cat with a canary. "Atobe's really good at tennis, huh?"

Kamio shrugged, watching Atobe as he played. Atobe hadn't even broken a sweat yet, was on his way to an easy victory. Kamio had to admit that he did enjoy watching Atobe play. The other boy's innate grace carried over to his playing style, and it was easy to see how he had become Hyoutei's captain. "Yeah. I guess."

Gakuto leaned forward, just a little bit, forcing Kamio to pay attention to him. "You know, you might fight it, but the fact is madararui are more sensitive to who their proper mates are than monkeys. We know by the scent who is most compatible with us. You might as well give in to Atobe. He'll probably treat you nice."

"Gakuta, stop it," Oshitari said. "How am I going to have a chance with Kamio if you're pushing him into Atobe's arms?"

Kamio tensed as an errant hand came to settle on his thigh. But before he could swat it away himself he heard a voice calling from the courts.

"Oshitari! Mukahi!" Atobe, apparently during a break, had come to their section of the bleachers and was yelling up at them, a scowl on his features. "Please refrain from molesting my boyfriend."

Oshitari smirked, but he took his hand off Kamio's leg. Both Oshitari and Gakuto seemed to settle down next to him, but Kamio's ears were still ringing from the way the word "boyfriend" had slipped so casually from Atobe's lips.

Directly after the match was over Kamio attempted to get up and get out, but Oshitari's hand was a vice grip around his wrist.

"What's the rush?" Oshitari asked. "Shouldn't you come to say hello to your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Kamio said, attempting and failing to jerk his hand out of Oshitari's grip. "Let go."

"Oh, but what would be the fun of that?" Oshitari used his grip on Kamio's wrist to pull him forwards, tugging him towards where the rest of the Hyoutei regulars were sitting.

"Yeah, Kamio," Gakuto said, in a sing-song voice, "come have fu~un with us."

It only took a minute for Oshitari to pull him to their destination. Atobe was already watching them, giving Oshitari a disapproving look.

"I thought I asked you," Atobe said, "not to molest Kamio."

"Molest? Whatever kind of person do you think I am, Atobe?" Oshitari's smile was saccharine sweet. "I only brought him over for you."

With a firm pat on Kamio's ass, Oshitari sent Kamio stumbling over to where Atobe was standing.

"Don't scowl, Kamio," Atobe said, a hand out to steady the redhead, "it makes you look like Shishido."

"Bastard," Shishido muttered, under his breath but still loud enough for every one to hear. There was, indeed, a scowl on his lips.

"Shishido-senpai, you shouldn't say things like that," Ohtori said, frowning from his perch next to Shishido. He leaned forward, blinking curious eyes at Kamio. "But I thought Atobe-buchou was dating Sanada from Rikkai?"

"Oh, that," Atobe replied, a hand waving off the question. "That was nothing. Kabaji, take Jirou home, ah~n? I'm taking Kamio out for dinner."

"Usu."

Kamio had been in a semi-haze since being pushed into Atobe's side, but decided he should make some kind of protest. Will power, he told himself, use it. He couldn't let himself get into this state every time he was within two feet of Atobe.

"I don't want to go out for dinner," he said, frowning at how much of a whine sounded.

"Nonsense," Atobe replied, "you just had a match too, didn't you? You must be hungry."

"I'm not," he said, but he was already being led away from the others.

It was all a little bit of a jumble, after that. Being shuffled into a waiting town car, the lights of Tokyo coming on around them as night fell, the valet in front of an expensive looking hotel. It wasn't until he was sitting across from Atobe in a European-style hotel that his head started clearing.

Kamio blushed, embarrassed that he had gotten all light-headed even after he specifically told himself not to. What happened to will power?

"Feel free to order whatever you want," Atobe said, already looking at the menu.

Kamio held up his menu, hiding the grin that was now blossoming over his face. Finally, he thought, he could take some kind of revenge out on that smug guy. If he couldn't beat Atobe in their relationship, tennis, or. . . well, anything else, really, then he could at least take it out on Atobe's wallet.

"Have you gentlemen decided what you want?" the waiter asked, stopping at their table.

"Yes," Kamio said, "for an appetizer I'd like the steamed percebes, duck breast in raspberry sauce, and sauteed soft shell crab. For my first course I'd like the homemade farfelle with crab meat, and for my second course I'd like the chateaubriand."

Kamio smiled as both the waiter and Atobe blinked at him. Kamio had no idea what a few of those things were, but they were the most expensive things on the menu.

"Yes. . . I'll just have the toasted gnocchi with white truffle sauce," Atobe said, passing the menu to the waiter. "And here I thought you weren't hungry, Kamio."

Kamio shrugged. "I changed my mind."

The food was even pretty good. It was even better, Kamio thought, knowing how much Atobe was going to have to pay for it. Then, before he knew it, Kamio's next opportunity for revenge had appeared. Atobe and Kamio were walking out of the restaurant when Kamio saw it, a large pyramid of champagne glasses set up on a small table.

"Oooh," he said, a hand to his forehead, "fainting" against the large pile. It fell to the floor in a cascade, the sound of glass breaking continuing for a few minutes.

"I'm so sorry," he heard Atobe saying, "of course I'll pay for the glasses. Please, let me pay for your dinner as well."

Kamio smiled before schooling his face and turning around. Atobe was talking to a couple, the man of which had a bottle of champagne in his hand, presumably to pour upon the tower of glasses. Both the man and the woman had blank, surprised expressions on their faces, as did the rest of their dinner party, and Kamio realized they were probably here to celebrate something. And Atobe, who had never seemed to Kamio to look anything other than smug, had a mildly embarrassed expression on his face. Suddenly, Kamio couldn't help but feel guilty about his actions.

Kamio let Atobe lead him out of the restaurant, too remorseful to say anything. He was so stupid. They waited outside for the chauffeur to pull the car up, but then Atobe was pulling Kamio's chin up to face him, was brushing Kamio's hair to the side.

"Why are you so sad all of a sudden?" Atobe asked.

" . . . sorry." Kamio mumbled it, soft under his breath, but from Atobe's smile the other boy heard it anyway.

"Silly. It's my fault for bringing you to such a nice place."

And then Atobe was leaning down and pressing their lips together. Kamio couldn't help it, he leaned forward, tangling his hands in the front of Atobe's shirt as he kissed back. But Atobe was being so nice to him. . . and then Atobe was pulling away, pressing one last kiss on his forehead before the car pulled up.

"Come on. I'll take you home."

Maybe, Kamio thought, dating Atobe wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.