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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
I just want to explain something, the reason why in all my fics the boys look like their mothers is because every boy (especially the oldest) I've seen looks more like his mother than his father. Seriously, where I work I see a lot of families and every boy, there's no mistaking who his mommy is. So, to me, it only makes sense for Kirihara to look like his mother. Same with Kaidoh. So I'm not doing it randomly, this is what I've seen ...ah, the joys of genetics.

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CHAPTER 7

The next few weeks went by normally, as normal as it could get for a Hunter. Kirihara’s insurance company had provided another car, perhaps with some help from Tezuka. Explaining how his car got from the middle of the road to the ditch without swerving, or even the presence of another car, was a little tough. Tezuka managed it, and as long as he had wheels, he wasn’t going to ask how. Kirihara no longer needed to bum a ride from Momoshiro or Ryoma, and was quite happy to have his independence back. After the initial find, Tezuka never mentioned the lair they stumbled across. Sanada wasn’t aware of it and said he would deal with it on his own, which meant no work for the Hunters until he knew exactly what was happening on his grounds. Normal extermination jobs continued to come in; an abandoned house, warehouse – everything typical. The Fledglings never increased or decreased their work, they kept everything frighteningly consistent.

Unfortunately, normal weeks tended to go by faster than crazy ones. Before he knew it, Kirihara found himself back at the Organization in the same cold elevator on his way to the clinic.

Inui-sensei checked his arm and gave him a clean bill of health; with a little physiotherapy it would be back to normal. That only applied as long as he didn’t strain it too much in the mean time. So far everything was good; it wasn’t until Inui brought out a grey bottle that Kirihara realized his impending doom.

He had no escape plan.

No meeting with Tezuka, no meetings with other Hunters, nowhere to be. He needed to go grocery shopping, but he doubted that was a good enough reason.

“RRGLLAAAACCCKKK!!”

Kirihara was still gagging when he left the building. Nothing had the right to be that disgusting. Inui-sensei wouldn’t take his excuse of grocery shopping, and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for that matter either.

Even though he’d never admit it, Kirihara enjoyed grocery shopping. It was something normal – in a not so normal life. Every grocery store was familiar and ordinary; kids running around screaming, pretty girls and older ladies smiling at him. He could pretend for a little while that he was just another Joe Blow, shopping to fill his fridge on a budget. He lingered in the junk food aisle; hey, everyone needed a vice. Some drink, others smoke, he enjoyed junk food. It was the salt more than the sweet, his friend Marui Bunta was the sweet fanatic – he ate enough for both of them.

He balanced a full paper bag on either hip as he walked to his car. Shifting one bag to get a better grip he missed the small mop of black hair duck around him. Something clipped his right arm, making him drop the bag.

“Fuck!” At least it wasn’t the eggs.

“Oh my god desu~ I’m so sorry desu~!” The boy squatted and started picking up the spilled groceries.

Kirihara had to do a double take; he could have sworn the boy was Ryoma. Upon closer inspection he noticed it wasn’t. Plus, he didn’t think Ryoma ever said ‘desu’ in his life. The boy was much thinner than Ryoma, but his skin had the same light tan. His hair was longer, curling around his ears and high cheekbones. His eyes were large and bright, giving him an innocent cherubic look. The tight polo shirt was unbuttoned to show the hollow of his throat, and tight enough to show that he was clearly waif-like. Capri shorts showed of thin hairless legs. The boy could have passed as a child model. He pushed his black messenger bag behind himself and dusted his hands off on his knees. Studded bracelets clicked on his wrist, silver rings adorned his fingers. He smiled brightly to Kirihara, who nervously smiled back.

“Have a good day desu!” The boy jumped to his feet and trotted off, a small skip in his step.

Kirihara stared after the boy – no Goth should ever be THAT happy. Balancing his bags again and keeping an eye out for chest-high collisions, he made it to his car.

The grocery store was closer to the organization than to his home, so he made sure this was a non-perishable trip. Sitting at a red light, apartment in view, he was overcome by a dizzy spell. Chalking it up to that god-awful crap Inui had made him drink he paid it no more mind.

As he parked his car and balanced his keys and the groceries, the dizziness didn’t stop. Not trusting himself not to fall over, he opted for the elevator. A kind older lady from a few floors below him got onto the elevator at the ground level.

“Ah! Akaya-kun! Grocery shopping I see?” She squinted up at him through her thick glasses.

He smiled and nodded.

She wiggled her finger at him, clicking her tongue, “a handsome young man like you needs a nice young girl to look after him! Imagine, a boy your age and no girlfriend!”

Kirihara laughed, having heard the same thing every day since he moved in. “Hai, hai.” A girl was really the last thing he needed.

With an encouraging pat on his hand she shuffled out on her floor.

The hallway swam when Kirihara stepped out of the elevator. He shook his head and inhaled deeply through his nose. Maybe eating something would make him feel better?

He shouldered open his front door, stepping around the mud in the entry way. He needed to clean; Momoshiro had been at his house far too often lately. Every time Ryoma was around, Momoshiro always seemed to show up.

He heated up the leftovers from the night before, carefully sniffing them before putting them in the microwave. While they spun happily in the artificial light he set about putting away his groceries. Reaching up to put a box of cereal away he noticed a large scratch on the back of his hand. Funny, he didn’t remember getting it. The scratch went from the knuckle of his pinky across to his thumb. It wasn’t a gash, but it was deep enough to bleed; blood had dried in a sticky scab along the scratch. He shrugged to himself, probably caught his hand on something on the kids bag.

After downing the entire plate he had heated up, the dizzy spell continued. It had been a few hours since he had been in the clinic, the effects of the juice should have worn off by now?

Flipping on the TV he started cleaning; sweep, then mop, then vacuum, fun. In the middle of sweeping there was a knock at the door. Kirihara checked the peephole before unlocking he door and stepping aside. Ryoma raised an eyebrow at the broom clutched in his left hand. Kirihara just shrugged.

“I just came to check on you, to see how your arm was doing. And to see if Inui-sensei …” he smirked at Kirihara’s exaggerated gag, “ah, I see he did.”

“I had no choice,” Kirihara stuck out his tongue, “he wouldn’t let me leave otherwise.”

Ryoma shuddered, gaze suddenly falling directly to Kirihara’s face, “you feeling ok?”

Kirihara shrugged, ”a little dizzy. Probably just Inui-sensei’s concoction.”

Ryoma’s frown deepened, “you’re really pale …” he crossed the room in a brisk walk, putting his hand on Kirihara’s forehead. “As I thought, you’re burning up.”

Kirihara shrugged again, brushing away Ryoma’s hand, “probably just caught a cold.’

“Akaya~”

“What did you say?” He frowned at Ryoma.

Ryoma tilted his head, “you’re burning up?”

“No after that, you called me by my given name.”

Ryoma frowned; worry creasing his forehead, “no I didn’t.”

“Don’t mess around with me Echizen, I’m sick not-“

“Akaya~”

This time he froze. It was a woman’s voice. Wild green eyes darted around the apartment. He knew that voice, it made his chest tight and his throat burn, but he didn’t know why.

Ryoma grabbed both of his arms, shaking him roughly, “Kirihara-san! Kirihara! Look at me!”

He let his eyes drop to Ryoma’s wide golden ones. A movement in the kitchen caught his attention, he vaguely heard Ryoma scream at him when he looked back up. Ryoma sounded far away, his hands no longer hurting where they gripped his arms.

A woman in a long white night gown stepped out of his kitchen, smiling. Her curly black hair was almost waist length; a crinkle appeared beside her large green eyes when she smiled.

“Mother?”

She nodded wordlessly, holding her arms open.

Kirihara’s body jerked as he tried to run to her but Ryoma stood in his way, hands firmly against his chest. He was yelling something, shaking him.

His mothers smile faded, turning to confusion, and then finally fear. Her chest exploded, as if someone had forced their hand through from behind. There was a child screaming somewhere, crying for its mother. Blood soaked into her dress as she looked down at the hole between her breasts.

Ryoma struggled against the screaming Kirihara, cursing his small stature. He braced his shoulder against Kirihara’s chest, he couldn’t move him; he could only hope Kirihara tired himself out soon. All of a sudden his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed. Ryoma cursed in surprise, trying to slow his descent to the floor. Kirihara’s head rested against his chest, shoulders cradled in his lap. Ryoma frantically fished around for his phone, trying not to jostle Kirihara too badly. Finding his phone, he flipped it open and dialed the first number that came to mind.

“This is Momoshiro.”

“MOMO!” Ryoma practically screamed into the phone.

“Ryoma!? What’s wrong?”

Everything came out in a rush, “something’s wrong with Kirihara! I don’t know! He started hallucinating, then screaming, and then he just collapsed! He’s running a really bad fever, you have to help! He’s too heavy for me to carry!” Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, “I don’t know what’s going on!”

“Whoa, slow down, where are you?”

“Kirihara-san’s apartment!”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible, everything will be okay.”

Ryoma nodded into the phone before hanging up, dropping it to the ground ignored. He stretched out his legs so they wouldn’t fall asleep and then shifted Kirihara around so his head was in his lap. Kirihara’s head twitched, eyes clenching and then relaxing. His skin was pale and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Ryoma smoothed his damp hair away from his eyes, fingers burning where they connected with his forehead.

She was running ahead of him, bare feet sliding through the loose sand. She spun around to face him, pale green sun dress flaring out. The long braid she had twisted her hair into fell over her shoulder when she bent down to pick him up. He fit snugly on her hip, little feet kicking at the air. Small chubby fingers tangled into her soft braid, she only laughed.

“He just collapsed! I don’t know!”

A man sat on a blue and white beach towel. He had straight dark hair and dark brown almond shaped eyes, long thick lashes caught the rays of the sun. Those were his eyes, but with her colour. He leaned back on his arms, thin angular face tilted up to the warm sun. Little arms reached out for him, he shielded his eyes as he smiled.

“This sounds way too much like a curse for my liking.”

“Curse!? How!?”

“Blood and hair. Do you know how he got that scratch? When I saw him yesterday that wasn’t there.”

“No, he didn’t, I-I don’t know.”

“We need to take him to Shinji.”

“What about Tezuka?”

“Tezuka can’t help him.”

He was being lifted away from them, their smiling faces moving further away. No! He didn’t want to go! No! He was happy there! He wasn’t in pain! Mama!

“Fuck! He’s burning hot! Echizen, get a cold cloth!”

He didn’t want to be jostled around, it hurt! Mama! He wanted to see her again! Make it stop hurting! Mama! She was there again, arms wide. Her arms were covered in blood, bloody tears streaked down her face. No! Mama! He was gone, they had taken him already, almond eyes forever opened wide in terror; she was alone, screaming and crying. Little hands clung to her white night gown. The footsteps were so loud, she kept screaming. The door banged, they were going to kill her.

“Shinji! Open your damn door!”

“Stop knocking. I can hear you perfectly fine.”

Fangs. Fangs covered in blood. Her blood. Lifeless eyes, blood spattered on her pale skin. They laughed as they tore her apart. Chubby fingers clung to a bloody piece of her pajamas. They threw her arm, it landed next to small feet. Her wedding band glistened on a bloody finger. They laughed and pointed. A child was crying, they laughed at it. One crawled closer, licking his lips. He laughed as a child started screaming.

“Jesus!”

“Lay him over there! Does he do that often?”

“He’s been screaming and crying off and on, he mutters a lot too.”

Bloody fangs behind a pretty smile. Blood soaked hands coaxing small fingers away from her empty face. He cooed gently, playing with curly black hair. They talked, no noise coming out.

“Make him comfortable, he’ll appreciate it later. Open his mouth.”

“What is that?”

“Things you wouldn’t understand. I couldn’t possibly be expected to explain it all now.”

“Okay, okay, as long as it helps him.”

“That is only part of what I have to do, I-“

“Okay! What do you want us to do?”

“Get out of my way.”

Their fingers tasted like copper. They traced chubby cheeks, tiny ears, little pink lips. ‘No you can’t have him!’ one had said. The other argued, ‘it’s a devil child! Look at him, he liked the blood! He’s perfect for us!’

Devil child?

Rocks bounced off small scratched arms. Demon they had called him. Unnatural. Eyes turned red when angry, something primal taking over. They fell around him, blood spraying from scratches and bites. Demon! Devil! Monster! What would your parents say if they saw you like this?

“Akaya? On my god! What’s wrong with him?”

“Black Magic."

“OH MY GOD!”

“SOMEONE HELP!”

“Another one?”

“Something’s wrong with him! He started going crazy and then he collapsed! Akazawa said to bring him to you!”

“Mizuki-san, is it?”

“Y-yes.”

“Lay him over there next to the other one.”

The laughing grew faint, nothing hitting him anymore. Her voice was singing. She was singing a lullaby. He didn’t want to sleep! He wanted to see her, but she wasn’t there. Only her voice, it was warm and kind. It made the pain go away. He was sleepy now. It was okay to sleep now, she had said so.

“There, he should be fine now.”

“Shinji, I’d like to stay with him. Momoshiro, Echizen, you guys can go, you look like hell, go get some rest. He’ll be fine now.”

“You sure Kamio?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”
- 6
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Colour Me Blood Red