Hopelessly Devoted

Atobe Keigo had been worshipped virtually since birth. He always seemed to be followed by gossiping girls or members of his own personal fan club -- and in all honesty, he couldn’t recall an occasion where he wasn't surrounded by followers. He commanded because they expected him to, and the words fell from his lips in such an elegant fashion that no one dared to question him. He had let them admire him because they’d wanted to. It wasn't his fault he was beautiful; he’d never asked for it – he just was.

Having power over his peers enlightened the diva. The screams of "Atobe-sama!" as he wandered the hall were music to his ears; the chant of "The winner will be Atobe!" on the tennis fields was the fuel for his strength. He knew he was good— no, he was more than good, he was the best. And while some people were just talk, and some people were just strength, Atobe Keigo was both: he had the talent and was never tentative to speak of his capabilities.

But Atobe Keigo became aware of something on his first day of senior high: there were no gossiping girls to greet him. There were no people asking him how he was and catering to his every need—no one at all. Only a few heads turned his way as he strolled into his new classroom. However, those heads that turned to glance at him turned away almost immediately—they, apparently, weren't interested.

He realized then that he was no longer a deity.

Atobe faltered. The basis of the Atobe Keigo world was his ego, and he'd just been given the cold shoulder. He felt as if he had been smacked in the face—hard. But he shook the numbness off, and put it down as a temporary thing. Surely, it was only because he was new; just give it some time -- he would be noticed, and he would gain a following. He would be that boy who everyone admired and worshipped. That was and would be the Atobe Keigo way.

Yet – he had collected his assembly of followers in elementary school, and he had built it up even more during junior high until the Atobe Keigo fan-base reached well over one thousand students. But none of those followers were in the same senior high as he was. He had been separated from the crowd, due to very high marks and a remarkable scholarship. Atobe Keigo was their leader, and of course, leaders got only the best when it came to school and, of course, everything else.

But now he was all alone.

He felt the unexpected inclination to scream out to tell everyone that he was Atobe Keigo, that they should be honored to bask in his aura; something inside him was teetering on that fine line between sanity and insanity. But shaking off the unexpected turn of events, he told himself that by lunch, he would have the entire school kneeling at his feet again.

He was Atobe Keigo, after all.

**********

He rode the bus home that day; alone for the first time in years.

No, it was the first time ever.

That morning, he had told his servants that they needn't to take the limo to pick him up, thinking that he'd be hoarded enough curious eyes to start what would be the basis of his fandom by the time school ended. Apparently he had been mistaken. As he stared out the window at the world passing him by, he felt an appalling sentiment develop in the pit of his stomach. An emotion he had never felt before.

Solitude.

Solitude and the fear because of it. He had been so sure that he would regain his status in this high school after one day. But what if he didn't? He certainly hadn’t that day. What then— what would he do? He shook his, head, clearing the thoughts from it. No, he would succeed; no one could resist Atobe Keigo.

No one.

**********

His cell phone rang. The catchy tune seemed to echo throughout the lonely corners of his bedroom. He let it ring. The abrupt buzzing vibrations from the table seem to pause for a moment, then start up again. It seemed to be mocking him. On again, off again… his eyes flashed with annoyance as finally, he picked up the contraption and flipped it open with some unneeded force.

"Hello?" he asked icily.

"Keigo-kun?" he was relieved to hear a familiar voice come though the other end— even if it was her.

"..."

"I was just calling to ask how your first day went,"

"It was fine," he replied testily through gritted teeth, "Yours?" He felt compelled to ask, it would give him some satisfaction if someone’d had to stoop to a lower level than him.

"It was all right,"

Silence.

"Did you have the whole school at your feet?" the question was innocent enough, but a little hint of a taunt could be distinguished in the girl's tone.

There was no response. "Keig-"

"Of course I did; who do you think I am?" came the icy reply- but was there a tinge of melancholy in the chords of his voice?

At the other end stared at the phone in disbelief; Atobe Keigo had hung up on her. At first she had thought she was a victim of a dropped call, but she knew that Atobe Keigo would not buy a phone whose company did not provided services up to his standards; and he had pretty high standards to meet. And as their calls usually went, it was usually she who hung up on him not vice versa. But this last call was different, beside the fact that he had hung up. Something didn't seem right—she knew it.

They were family friends – well, their parents were, at least; she and Atobe were a different story. They had started off rocky: she despised his arrogance and he despised her attitude towards him. Yet, as time grew on, she saw, surprisingly, that beneath those layers of egotism there was decency. And he had learned to ignore the displeasure of having a conversation with a girl who wasn't completely head-over-heels for him. And even if he was still a cocky bastard, she’d learned to accept his supercilious attitude, only to realize that she was pretty damn close to actually figuring out the real Atobe Keigo concealed behind it—possibly much closer than anybody else would ever get.

Soon, her thoughts had digressed into trivialities. But she could tell that Atobe was upset – call it woman's intuition – but the real question was why?

Did she really care, though?

**********

He lay on his bed, staring into the corner of his grand bedroom. Several months had passed since school had started, and Atobe Keigo was not welcome in anyone's clique. Atobe Keigo was not welcome anywhere in his new school. Atobe Keigo did not have a fan club, he did not have any friends. He was a reject.

Without his cheering squadron, he weakened. He had lost all of his massive self-confidence. He still had skill, but he failed to show it when he needed to. He was becoming indifferent and cold. He was becoming invisible.
He hadn't even made the tennis club.

He had given up all hope of starting another Atobe Dynasty. He didn't bother to try and tell everyone how great he was— how they should love and worship him. He'd tried that already, and it never worked. They all laughed at him... or worse, they ignored him entirely. Somehow, the mighty Atobe Keigo had become a nobody.

And he hadn’t made the tennis club.

He could remember always being surrounded by fans and admirers, and evidently, somewhere along in life, he had come to depend on that. He had begun to require the devoted attention to survive. Without his followers, he was isolated. He was falling, falling through a miserable void of solitude, and he hated it.

The phone rang. Then it rang again. And it rang a third time before he picked it up and glanced at the little window to see who was calling. It was her again.

"Yes?" he asked when he flipped his cell open; his voice seemed vacant.

"Keigo," she began, but Atobe Keigo wasn’t in the mood for talking.

"What do you want?" he snapped coldly.

He heard a sigh at the other end, "Well, I was originally calling because… well, you didn't sound too well the last time I called. Are you sure you're alright?"

Instead of repudiating her claim, Atobe snapped; whatever inhibitions he’d had burst open and his body was filled with all the emotions he’d been hiding for all those weeks—all those days. He had lost everything that he had worked for and was left with absolutely nothing, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it

"Do you even care, ?" he demanded.

She did not reply—she couldn't bring herself to. Normally, she'd answer his question like she always did, but something about the way he asked – the way he spat her name out with such malice and odium and despondency and mourning—had petrified her.

"Of course not. No one ever did," Atobe said bitterly. There wasn't a trace of pleasantness left in his voice. That explosion within him was dying away now. The anger, the anguish all left him, leaving only that empty cocoon he called his body behind. He did not want any more of this. Everyone else around him seemed so in tune with the world, and it was as if he was on a different continent than they were. Anger boiled inside him once more. He hated those happy people who smiled everyday, he hated his classmates, he hated , and most of all, he hated himself. "I despise you, , I despise everything about you. Let's not converse again."

And with that said, for the second time, Atobe Keigo hung up the phone and began to cry.

He lay on his bed, facing the ceiling, and cried.

For the first moment in many years, Atobe Keigo had something to cry about.

Atobe Keigo was ruined.

He was no longer Atobe Keigo, he was an empty cocoon; he was falling into a dark void of misery—the butterfly that once inhabited it had flown away and was gone before he knew it. There was no hope for him to regain any of his status, now. No hope for-- anything. Everything was gone. The day he’d started senior high, something in him had died—and this was proof.

He was crying.

And no one cared.

**********

He hadn't called since their last phone conversation a month ago, and she hadn't bothered to call him. Of course she hadn't. Atobe had behaved like an asshole the last time. She probably would never call him again, not like he cared or anything.
Atobe didn't care anymore.

He was a ruined man. He didn't want to face , who was probably doing just fine at her school. She was probably getting perfect grades as always; she was probably a key member in student council, as always... she was probably in complete control of her life, as always. did not need Atobe Keigo.

His grades were slipping. It should have worried him. He'd worked hard to get into this school. It should have worried him, but Atobe did not care about anything anymore. Not one bit.

It had been three months, and she had never called him. Not once.

**********

**********

**********

"Keigo."

She had run into Atobe that night by accident, in a place they had gone together often when their parents came to visit each other. It was just outside a quaint café. She'd been thinking of Atobe earlier that night, thinking about the smirk that she couldn't forget, no matter how hard she tried.

But the smirk that he was carrying right now was nothing like the one that she knew so well. It seemed… frightening

had convinced herself that she didn't care, and she'd never bothered contacting Atobe again. Besides, he had been a jerk in their previous phone conversation and he was the one who had said that he didn't want to talk again in the first place. But now she realized that had been a mistake. Her first intuition had been right. Something was very, very wrong with Atobe.

"What happened to you?" she asked, revolted by the sight she saw. The Atobe Keigo she knew did not smoke cigarettes like they were pieces of candy. Nor was the Atobe Keigo she once knew that hollow in character and appearance.

Atobe scoffed as he flicked another butt of a cigarette on the ground, "I lost my ego, and so I lost it all.... I lost everything," he stomped on the burning embers without of care of whether his shoes were going to be ruined or not.

She did not understand. Lost his ego?

Atobe could see the slight uncertainty on her face. He laughed that creepy, hollow laugh; she cringed.

"I am no longer the Atobe Keigo that you knew and despised, --so leave me alone." Atobe turned and began to walk away.

As he walked away, a numbness spread throughout her body. She then realized that she had cared all along. She'd cared that Atobe had coldly dismissed her, on their phone call, a year ago.

She'd cared that Atobe had never called her. She cared about Atobe, who was currently leaving her behind.

She had cared all along, and she still cared. Even if she denied it, she knew deep down she had indeed cared for him very much so. After all, he was the person she had come to in the past when she needed help and strangely enough, Atobe always was able to offer the help that she needed. At some point they had become good friends. She had taught him patience, and he had taught her confidence. While they hadn’t really been what one could have termed a 'couple', they’d had a relationship which could have developed into something more. But as time went on, they had grown more distant.

"Keigo, wait,"

Atobe stopped, but he did not turn around. "No one ever cared. They worshipped me and praised me, but they abandoned me when it suited them. I was a god, . Now, I am nothing."

Atobe still had a way with words that was nothing short of dramatic. Apparently that was one of the few things he had not lost.

thought she understood now, though. Atobe was no longer popular, as he had been. He'd lost his fame and power, and he was left with nothing. Atobe didn't know how to deal with that; it was a new concept for him. "Keigo --"

"Shut up!" Atobe whirled around to face her with such fury in his eyes that she actually backed up a step. Those eyes, that face, that voice – they frightened her. It was just like that phone call in which he’d told her not to call him ever again. For the second time in her life, she was fearful of Atobe Keigo.

"I don't want to hear your laughter!" Atobe shouted. "I don't want to hear it! You must be pleased that you've won yet another game!"

Atobe's words were so hateful that she could almost physically feel their sting. She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand, silencing her – was his power returning?

"You laughed at me a few times, because you found my attitude amusing. It was annoying, but you know what? I liked your laugh, so I put up with it. I knew I had fans that admired me, so I felt that I could do anything, even if you laughed at me. Now... I never want to hear that laugh again! I don't want to hear you laughing at me now that you know I'm nothing!"

And with that, Atobe turned and fled.

She watched him go, her mind whirling. What should she do?

Atobe was caught in the twisting, winding downward spiral of self-hatred -- something that she had never expected. He had lost everything he had faith for.

Did she really care, though?

The answer was yes. Of course she cared.

cared about Atobe Keigo -- she could no longer deny that to herself. She had missed Atobe this past year; missed all of the things they used to do together. She missed their trips to the park, their 'dates' or what Atobe would call them at the time; she missed their conversations over the phone; she missed his presence.

Her body acted before her mind had finished thinking; she ran after Atobe. She had to try to help him, since it seemed that no one else would.

**********

When she finally caught up to him, he had broken his run into a walk. A walk that had lost all confidence in the steps. Left. Right. Left. Right. For a moment, she remained immobile; sickened by what happened to that Atobe Keigo she once knew and perhaps loved.

Yes, she could have loved Atobe Keigo – no, she would have loved him if things had been different, especially if they hadn't been separated after junior high. They were just friends now. But she had cared for him all along. She didn't know how, but she had somehow managed to fall in love with that pompous idiot. It was one thing she’d despised about him so long ago – how he'd always place those girls underneath his spell. She had thought that she was immune to it, but apparently she was wrong. She’d started to grow fonder of that quirk. And as a result, even she couldn't escape his aura—she couldn't help but to be hopelessly devoted to him.

Subconsciously as the array of thoughts were streaming through her head in a mindless stream of chaos, her body moved on its own. Perhaps all Atobe Keigo needed was love. Her arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind him, bringing them both into a complete standstill.

Atobe was so startled when he felt her arms around him that he stopped immediately—he almost stopped breathing. He wanted to throw her off, but soon he had relaxed in the warm embrace. And for the first time in many, many months, he felt vaguely happy.

"Whoever said that I would laugh at you, Atobe Keigo?" she asked softly. She felt his hands grasping her arms with such gentleness it was hard to imagine that it was him. She slowly brought her head to rest on the spine of his back, "Whoever said....?"

That did it. Atobe Keigo began to cry, yet again. The liquid tears trickled down his face; his heart of stone was cracking. Even though he was standing with his back against her, a ghost of a smile etched itself onto her lips. She recalled those countless times she had cried on his shoulder and she had relied on him, those hard times when no one else was around and he wasn't as oblivious as she had thought. Now it was her turn.

**********

The soft jingling of a bell was to be heard as stepped through the door of the restaurant, but the jingling soon died off as had the animosity did in the present. Her eyes gazed around the cozy café and soon, she spotted a familiar face waiting for her at their usual table. A table she had not been at for more than a year.

His eyes were clear and when they connected with her own, they glinted with that same feeling of prowess as they had so long ago. His former smirk was back in place; although it was not as smug as it had once been, she suspected that with time, it would restore itself completely.

She sat down next to him, and regarded Atobe with her usual cool gaze of azure.

"Nice to see you, -chan," Atobe said.

"Same goes with you,"

There was silence. And then, he smiled at her, a genuine smile that had remain hidden for those many months.

"How was school today?" she asked.

"You should know. You were there," Atobe replied, "You are my biggest fan, after all."

"Your new school is not as renowned as the first one you attended," she said. "Are you sure you want to go there?"

"My new school is completely acceptable."

"Even if you only have one fan there?"

"One fan is enough for now. She is the best fan I have, after all," Atobe replied. "Besides, I will find myself more, soon. I am a man that people worship -- because I deserve it. Because in me, they see something they can admire."

She couldn't help but to smile, "Of course, Keigo," shaking her head; that diva was returning.

During those last several months in rehab, she had helped him rekindle his former passion. It took work, but at the end, she saw the change. She had devoted countless hours with Atobe to try to help him regain his once shattered self confidence and build it up little by little. While the pieces weren't exactly in place as they were before – they could never be— she had helped him gather the shattered pieces of his esteem and gradually glued them back together. He wasn't the old Atobe she knew before, yet he also wasn't the one she knew from the incident those months earlier. The new Atobe represented both of his attitudes—while he was not as outlandish as before, he had recaptured his poise and the way he carried himself while acquiring a strong sense of delicacy— and she had to admit, it made her heart play a tune of its own.

"You know, I think I've won, this time," Atobe said, looking at her with a genuine smile planted on his lips as he placed an arm around her shoulder.

"Maybe you have," she replied, smiling back with equal satisfaction.

He smirked, "I made you fall for me, didn't I, ?"

"Yes."

Atobe tossed his hair as she gazed at his face carefully—that butterfly had undergone rebirth into something much more picturesque, something much more beautiful. And she loved ever bit of it. Brushing off a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes –it was a flaw to his portrait— he met her gaze. "Are you my biggest fan?"

"Yes." Their eyes never looked away from each other.

"You'll stay with me from now on, right?" Atobe asked, quietly.

She smiled. "Of course,"

"I hated being alone," Atobe whispered.

"You're not alone now." Atobe closed his eyes, resting the back of his head on the cushioned seat. She was a peculiar one. She never screamed outlandishly when she saw him; she never fainted from infatuation either. Instead, she had seen him at his weakest, and still wanted to be around him no matter how pathetic he had seemed before. She never wanted to worship him, like other fan-girls— and she never did. But she genuinely cared for him and that was all that mattered to him.

Atobe Keigo was no longer a god, but he was finally happy.

"You know, I'm your biggest fan, ,"

She turned her head, to face him, "Really?" she questioned.

He smirked that famous smirk as he moved closer almost so his forehead was touching hers. "Of course." The whisper just barely escaped from his mouth as he gently pressed his lips upon her own and bestowed upon her a chaste kiss. For this past month she had devoted her life to help him recover and he knew very well that she certainly could have gone off to do much more important things. He knew that she could have abandoned him at his greatest time of need. He knew that she could have left him out in that cold dejected world, all alone.

But she didn't. And quite frankly, Atobe Keigo was grateful for that. She had taught him many lessons during their time together, whether it was as friend or perhaps- something more. She had taught him patience, courage, perseverance, and much, much more. But out of all the things he had learned from her, he cherished this lesson the most—devotion to the one he loved.

##########
September 4, 2008
Written by: Shii-chan
Edited by: Ri