Never Ever

By: Dyaoka

Disclaimer: I don't own the Prince of Tennis.

Notes/Warnings: Creepiness, confusion, minor shounen-ai (if you can find it), crap, and crap. Yes. Unbeta-ed still. Too lazy to beta.

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Part Two

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"Ryoma, take this to your father, please? I'm rather busy today...and I know how much your father hates hospital food," Rinko said pleadingly. She was already late for one of her meetings and she wasn't out of the house yet. "Ryoma, please?" The dark haired boy looked up at his mother from his video game. With a sigh he nodded. Rinko smiled happily and hugged her son. "Be sure to go right away! The food won't taste good when it's cold!" Ryoma nodded again and shut off the television and game system.

He grabbed the lunch box that sat on the table and put on his shoes and walked out of the house. He distinctly heard his mother rushing the car out of the garage. A loud 'screech' was heard as the car came to an abrupt stop and then rushed off again. Ryoma sighed and shook his head; his mother was always like that when rushed. He was lucky that his father was a better driver than his mother.

Walking quickly like his mother instructed him to, Ryoma quickly walked passed the hospital receptionist and up the stairs. It was a pity that the hospital didn't have any elevators. The building was old, founded and built during the early twentieth century. Miraculously, it still stood today, after World War II, as a hospital and was kept in good condition. But elevators weren't installed in the building because they wanted to keep it as 'original as possible.'

Ryoma barely broke a sweat climbing the stairs, which was a good thing. He was climbing towards the fifth floor when an odd song passed by his ears. He was not sure of the lyrics or words, but the tune was quite haunting. The words sounded to be the older Japanese language, which seemed odd to Ryoma. Not many people spoke the old language nowadays.

Curiosity piqued, Ryoma stepped onto the fifth floor and down the hall. The song became louder. The boy continued to walk down the hall, searching for the source of the music, his original task of delivering the food to his father forgotten.

The dark haired boy came across a familiar numberless door.

"But usually there would be something in front of my door, preventing me from getting out...and anyone from coming in."

Indeed, since there was cement all around the door, making it impossible to open. Ryoma frowned and looked at the doorknob. It was the same one that he opened yesterday. In fact, amongst the dust collected on it, was the print of a hand. His hand. Furrowing his brows together to think of a solution of what could have happened, Ryoma turned the knob. The singing stopped abruptly.

"Who's there?" called out a familiar voice.

"Echizen Ryoma" the boy answered. So the stranger was trapped behind the cemented door. "Why is your door cemented?"

"Cemented? What's that, nya? Why don't you come in?"

"How? It's cemented!" Ryoma said, twisting the knob again and pushing the door. Strangely enough, it opened.

"See? You got in!" Kikumaru Eiji exclaimed. He was still behind the thick curtain and the dust and cobwebs around the room was more abundant than ever.

"Why don't you hurry and come with me? The room is cemented-"

"I can't leave," the figure said, looking out the window again. "I can't even move from the bed, nya. I have tried...I tried so many times, but I can't leave. I want to."

"It's not that hard!" Ryoma snapped, pushing the curtains open. The other boy in the bed gave a squeal of surprise and shielded his eyes, as if the sight of Ryoma burned him. The other boy was dirty, his skin was a near-ashen color and was thin and small - almost impossibly so. It was like he had been starved quite severely. He literally wore dirtied rags and his hair was also raggedy, like it hasn't been washed for quite a long time. But a pair of large, innocent deep blue eyes peered up at him fearfully.

"Wh-what do you want?" the red head asked.

Ryoma was shocked at the condition of the other boy, Eiji. He reached out slowly for the red head, and touched the other on the cheek, gently rubbing the grime from Eiji's face. The red head looked so delicate, so fragile. "...and they call this a hospital" Ryoma said softly. Suddenly remembering the lunch box, Ryoma opened it and set it into the red head's lap. Eiji needed it more than his father right now. "Eat," Ryoma commanded, looking sternly over at the red head.

Eiji was looking at the lunchbox suspiciously. "What is this?" the red head asked. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"You look starved" Ryoma answered, taking a seat on the bed, which was free of dust. The red head looked at the food rather credulously.

"A...are you sure?" Eiji asked, eyes wide. Ryoma handed a pair of chopsticks over to the red head and nodded. Eiji looked back at the food and started to eat at an alarming speed. In a little less than five minutes, the entire lunch box was clean.

Ryoma nodded slowly as Eiji handed the lunch box back to the other boy sheepishly. "You eat fast," Ryoma said quietly, looking at his watch. It was already one o' clock.

"Yeah...you have to, nya...if you don't want your food taken away. That's how it was for me," the red head said. He flushed a bit at the cheeks and then immediately said; "I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Ryoma asked, putting the chopsticks into the lunch box and shutting the lid before putting the box back into the bag he brought it in. "You know, you really should leave the room. Now is a good time to leave."

"But...I can't move..." the red head said dejectedly.

"I'm here to help" Ryoma said and tried to offer a smile. But the only thing he managed to muster was a smirk. The red head giggled.

"Ochibi-chan, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't carry me, nya. You're still Ochibi-chan" Eiji said with a smile. "You should go, Ochibi-chan. Visit me soon, ok?"

Frowning, Ryoma reached forward and lifted Eiji from the bed. As he thought, the red head didn't weigh much. The red head gasped in surprise as he was lifted from the bed. However, Ryoma suddenly dropped the other boy back onto the bed and doubled over in pain. "Ochibi-chan! Are you ok, nya?" Eiji asked, looking over the bed at Ryoma.

"I...I'm ok," the dark haired youth said. "I'm ok..."

"I told you," the red head continued sadly. "No one can move me from this room. No one can. The doors are blocked by something and I can't even move my legs. I wish I could...I wish very much that I can, nya. Very, very much."

"Then...I guess I can stay a bit," Ryoma said, sitting down on the bed next to Eiji. "It won't really matter, would it? No one can get in..."

"But people will be worried about you, nya! They'll realize that you're missing!" the red head exclaimed. "You have to go. You can't stay here!"

"Why not?"

"Don't become like me, Ochibi-chan. Don't become like me," Eiji said sadly, leaning forward so his forehead touched Ryoma's shoulder. "Never become like me..."

Once said, Ryoma felt a wave of nausea and he closed his eyes for what felt like a second. But when he opened them again, he wasn't in the numberless room anymore. Eiji wasn't there next to him either. Rather, he was in another room with an oxygen mask over his face. He blinked blearily at the bright light that was shining down upon him. Ryoma realized that the light came from the window that he was next to.

...wait, what? Oxygen mask?

Nearly leaping from the bed, Ryoma looked frantically around. The nurse that was there shrieked loudly.

"Oh my goodness, boy!" the old nurse exclaimed. "You gave me quite a fright!"

"What happened?" Ryoma demanded.

"They found you passed out on the fifth floor just a bit before twelve o' clock," the old nurse explained. "But for some odd reason, your breathing was erratic and there were time periods of which you stopped breathing! Your father was downright frightened! He's in the room next to yours if you want to go see him."

"What do you mean..." Ryoma trailed off. He remembered checking his watch back in Eiji's room when it read one o' clock. But if he was found just a bit before twelve...then wouldn't that mean everything that had happened in the numberless room was just a dream? "How did I end up here?" Ryoma asked.

"The doctor brought you here, of course!" the nurse exclaimed. "Now, sit down, tell me how do you feel?"

Ryoma shook his head, golden eyes opened wide in disbelief. He looked over to the table, noticing the lunchbox there. It was ultimately empty.

So it wasn't a dream.

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To Be Continued

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