I'd like to thank my previous reviewers on Transplant:

Yamari-chan

IceAlkhuan

hpets

ZaizenHikaru's

Lainana

artist-girl713

Ebil Chameleon

ChibisukeGirl

Lonely Rain

Eternal Zanzie

Tuli-Susi

leafninja95

Now on with the story!

The Sick Rose

O Rose, thou art sick.

The invisible worm

That flies in the night

In the howling storm

Has found out thy bed

Of crimson joy,

And his dark secret love

Does thy life destroy.

William Blake, The Sick Rose, 1790

"Hey Echizen, the team is going out to celebrate the nationals, want to come?" I asked my best friend after we won the first round of the nationals. Everything looked unnaturally perfect, Tezuka's arm was healed, we had beat Rikaida 6-5, and Echizen hadn't broken a sweat.

"Senpai's treat," Echizen answered arrogantly, as always. Although, since he did win the last game that could have cost us the tournament, he probably deserved this one. Echizen was already thirteen, but his childish features still stayed strong. He didn't know it, but almost everyone on the team had thought of taking him at least once. That's why I was there, for protection, moral support, and someone he could run to if he ever did get hurt.

Echizen smugly ran up to me and managed to keep up with my strides, he was cute like that, all the more reason for someone to rape him. He smirked and we started talking about how challenging Rikaida was and how we'd beat the next school.

We met the rest of the team outside a restaurant. Kikumaru-senpai was bouncy and hyper, Oishi-senpai acted like he was worried that Kikumaru-senpai would hug Echizen. That wasn't true, he was jealous that senpai could steal so many hugs and touch Echizen so much without alerting suspicion.

Everyone sat down and we began ordering. Echizen had a sukiyaki, while the rest of up had western food. When given a choice between western of Japanese, Echizen always chose western. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself, we began talking. About the future.

"Nya, I'd like to be an astronaut, nya!" Kikumaru exclaimed.

"Eiji…" Oishi responded.

"What about you Echizen?" I asked. At the time, it seemed alright. Just a couple of kids, imagining unrealistic dreams, or far-fetched goals. But when Echizen answered he was serious. Drop dead serious.

"Nya! Ochibi will probably be a tennis pro!"

"No, I'm not that lucky," Echizen smirked again, but it wasn't his regular smirk. This one looked almost painful, longing. It creeped the hell out of me, "I'll probably go on the transplant list and die before I turn twenty one, while you all have successful careers and families." He said it matter-of –fact, as sure as the sun would rise tomorrow.

"E-echizen,"

"What?" he snapped. Echizen never snapped like that, "It's going to happen anyway."

"Why do you say that, Echizen?" Fuji-senpai intervened. Echizen's statement managed to get his baby blues opened too.

"Because it's true."

For the rest of the party, we stayed on the safe topic of food.

-------------

Momoshiro Takeshi skimmed through a number of papers on his desk. Now, he was known as Detective Momoshiro Takeshi, head of the Missing Persons Unit in Tokyo. He worked 6 days a week every week solving numerous cases and helping lots of people, but there was always one name he was looking for.

Echizen Ryoma.

Echizen had gone missing almost thirty years ago after a celebration during the Nationals. It was one of the most skilled kidnapping in history. No footprints, blood, DNA, nothing. Eventually, the police just declared it was a runaway and gave up, but Momo didn't think so. There was no reason for Echizen to run away, he didn't even take his racket. Besides, all of Echizen's family was had already immigrated to America, he didn't have anywhere to go. So, to find his best friend, Momo took Criminal justice in college and became a detective. And went 20 years without a clue to Echizen's whereabouts. Tough Love.

"Sir, we've got a new case, 17 male, went missing last week from the hospital." A detective told Momo handing him another stack of papers. God, can't these people tell when a man hasn't slept in three days.

"Sorry, we're full. Can't you give them to the other unit that investigates runaway teens?"

"Um… no and there's one more thing…"

"What?"

"This kid's first in line for a heart transplant."

Momo immediately looked through the papers the man gave him. They were medical records. DNA, biopsies, MRIs, tests; everything showed that the kid had three weeks left. One problem: people on life support can't get up.

"You're kidding. Get out."

"No, really! The kid's gone just like that. One minute he was under anesthetics and morphine for the pain, the next minute the nurse claims he's gone!"

"'Claims'" Momo grabbed his jacket and coffee leaving a confused subordinate with no idea on what he should say to his boss.

A skinny 30 year old man was lying in the ICU ward of a hospital. He really was thirty, really. But, the medicines he had been given as a child stopped his growth hormones so he was forever frozen as an 18 year old. He doubted anyone even knew his real age. Anyone he knew for sure was either dead, or hadn't seen him in over two decades. Not to mention the forged papers, his parents had forged them a long time ago too, because a child was more likely to get a new heart sooner than a middle-aged drop out.

The nurses, however were fresh out of college, naïve, scared, exited, and some were just plain sensitive and afraid of blood. One of these kinds was in charge of the man. Shouldn't be much of a problem, right? Just refill the anesthetics, morphine, vitamins, and change the diaper every few hours. No talking, crying, or sob stories about his fears, hopes, and dreams that will remain unaccomplished or anything else; just reports, sounds of faint breathing and peaceful sleep.

Wrong.

This particular patient was famous in the ICU. He was referred to as the 'heart transplant kid' that everyone felt sorry for. Even under the anesthetics and morphine, his face never looked completely peaceful, it was always slightly scrunched up as if in pain, and there have been reports that he trembled in his sleep.

The worst part: they were all true.

According to the doctors and anesthetic specialists pain was really all he was feeling. Pain and the unconscious feeling of blood flow slowing down and his heart slowly coming to a halt. If he was conscious he would also feel the fear of not being able to start his heart back up again. It's always too much for the nurses to handle. Always.

But, apparently, who really knows what a comatose patient feels? Sure, there are all these tests, and experiments done, but really, all the people that are blessed enough to come out of comas never really remember being in them at all. So, how does one feel being inside a coma, not coming out and getting a sob story published about 'survival', 'time-loss' and (AN: All you Christians out there, please don't be offended, I'm Christian too) heaven forbid, how "'Jesus saved me'", but the very feeling of having your humanity locked up somewhere deep inside your own head as the only thing left of you is the primitive features that make up the basics of animals.

How would it feel?

This is what brings us to Ryoma Echizen, age 30, nationality Japanese, current status: dieing. He was more complex than most, was being the correct term. According to dozens of doctors and tests, all they were waiting for was either

a new perfect, healthy, heart to miracusly come knocking on the door, or,

for his own damaged, dieing, weak, heart to finally give up after years of stress. (ANRyoma's not the doctors, even though I don't doubt many real doctors are hoping for the same thing to happen to their own hearts)

Yes, we all know, doctors are cruel, but are there really any other options? Their jobs are to save whoever can be saved, and they've done more than enough for this particular patient, surgeries, substitutes, everything. But, it looked like the kid didn't have much luck to begin with, and his was out. A waste really, he was sort of cute.

Then one day he disappeared. At first the nurse thought that maybe the kid finally decided to take a break, and went to gossip about it to her fellow co worker. But when she said laughed and said that Ryoma wasn't dead yet and not to joke about things like that, the staff began to get suspicious. Was he dead or not? After the doctors were coming in for their usual check up on Ryoma, everyone knew something was seriously wrong, comatose patients on transplant lists don't just get up and walk…

Or do they?

------------------------------------------------------------------

This really sucks, thought Momo as he was driving to the hospital right on top of the speed limit causing all drivers near him to get out of the way and let him pass. It must be a kidnapping, but who'd want to take a dieing 17 year old? Pedophile? Rapist? Ransom? Anyway, if he's as sick as the hospital says he is, we're looking for a body not a kid. As the car neared the hospital, Momo decided to stop panicking and slow down before entering the crime scene. It wasn't too hard to find empty parking lots at 1 o clock in the morning. He got up with a professional I'm-the-boss-you're-going-to-listen-to-me-or-get-fired aura and headed coolly to the crime scene with his badge shining proudly on his chin.

There were less nurses in the hospital this early in the morning, and the ones who were there quickly scurried away from Momo when they saw his badge. Apparently news travels fast in a hospital.

Momo managed to approach one of the nurses long enough to ask where the kids room was when he remembered stupidly… he didn't know the kid's name! God… it's times like this when Momo get's surprised by his own idiocy.

"ICU, 5th floor, Room 213," then nurse said almost too swiftly.

"W-what?" asked Momo like a middle school kid that had been just woken up from sleeping in class (doesn't that bring back memories, eh?).

"Transplant Kid, right? That's the one you're looking for." She handed him a map of the hospital and left before Momo could realize what happened. He was right, news does travel fast.

---------------------------------------------------

It hurts. Am I on fire? What happened? What day is it? Who am I? I thought I was Echizen Ryoma, but I'm not sure now. This body is too old. It's shutting down. I can feel it, am I dieing? I think so, I remember Oyaji saying something about it once. He didn't cry. Mom did though. Why would she cry? I'll be fine. I'll get out of it. I'll win.

And the body that was too old collapsed from under him.

----------------------------------------------

Momo tried to salvage what was left of his dignity by finding his own way to the ICU, which he soon found to be impossible. Why did hospitals always have to be so damn big? He finally breathed I sigh of relief when he found a security guard going to a vending machine and managed to lead him back to the crime scene.

Only until his relief was shattered when his body felt the tense and desolate atmosphere surrounding the room and all those surrounding it. A few investigators were examining corners and cracks too thin too slide a dollar bill through, but most were conversing among themselves about the 'tragedy' and how mysterious and impossible this case was, or sleeping.

Where was all the hustle and movement? Why wasn't anyone discussing possible theories or sending out groups to look for possible places where the body could be found? No case could really be that hopeless.

Every one immediately reacted when they realized Momo was inspecting them. There were many exclamations of "Captain!" and "Shit!" and others along those lines. Momo was very disappointed.

"Muhashi!" he called for his subordinate who was supposed to keep the investigation moving. Apparently, he wasn't.

"Sorry, Captain," Muhashi started explaining, "We triple checked every inch of the room. There isn't any way for anyone to get in, or out without an ID. We also checked out nurses, doctors, janitors, everyone. They all have an alibi. By tomorrow morning the press is going to be stating Kamikakushi(1)."

No leads, nothing? This was going to be harder than he thought.

"Hey!" he yelled across the room to everyone, "Anyone got a picture of the kid?" Another guard shyly handed him a photograph. Momo's eyes widened in disbelief.

Echizen….?

Disbelief shown on Momo's eyes. That picture that he was looking at showed his long lost friend. It was all there, his eyes, his hair, the texture of his face, the very fiber of his being. It was all right there, him.

His face had changed a bit, an odd sort of maturity and experience shown in his eyes that Momo had never seen in them before. The sight scared him. What had this kid been forced to go through? It didn't make sense, Echizen never had any heart problems, he was third best out of all the middle school regulars! He could have gone pro if he hadn't vanished like that. Now, thirty years later the man he had been searching for since the second half of his life had appeared. I have to find him. I don't care if it kills me. I need him.

"So…what's his name again?" Momo asked nonchalantly.

"Er, Echizen Kiroshi. The third son of Echizen Nanjirou and Rinko. Siblings include two older brothers Echizen Ryoga, and Ryoma, both pronounced missing."

Kiroshi…? "Check with the parents." He ordered absently before taking his leave along with the picture. There was only one thought on his mind as he entered his car.

Inui.

------------------

Sadaharu Inui had grown up into a pretty successful person as everyone expected of him. He was in elected as a member of the Cabinet of Japan and exercised numerous powers in the Japanese government. The only problem was that it was often hard to reach him at times. This was understandable because he was oversees a lot, but sometimes when Momo did reach him on his cellphone and he was oversees, well… lets just say the long distance prices weren't merciful.

Momo decided that if it meant finding his friend after ¾ of a lifetime search, that he would take the chance of bankruptcy. He finished dialing the extremely long phone number and waited for the answering machine.

"Momo?" He answered. Guess we'll have to watch out for flying pigs and lobsters from now on.

"Inui! Long time no…hear," Momo answered back a bit flustered.

"What is it Momo, I've got a meeting in two hours with the prime minister of Britain and I need to get ready," Inui sounded impatient and irritated, as if talking to a spoiled child asking for presents. Then again, prime minister of Britain, wow. (not to mention the phone bill)

"Yea, sorry about that. You see, I kind of have a complicated case, and I was wondering, if, um you could probably look up Echizen Kiroshi for me, please." Momo managed to get out.

"You shouldn't take advantage of other people, Momo. You're abusing both of our powers." Inui's tone was sharp again. He had changed a lot from a data collecting freak that he was in junior high to an invincible political manipulator. Momo changed a lot too.

"But you still can, can't you?" Momo pleaded.

Inui sighed, he was winning in more than one way. The more Momo asked him for help, the more leverage Inui had on Tokyo's police department, "What's the name again?"

"Echizen Kiroshi."

"Echizen…" Inui was silent for a moment, did the connection drop? "I see, Momo. I'll look him up tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! But Inui, you see, there's not---"

"That's the best I can do. Good night, Momo." Inui finished and hung up on him. Momo was left with a strong nostalgic feeling of dread in his stomach. So close, so close.

Over the years the Seigaku regulars had grown further and further apart. Each had learned to develop their own interests and career paths outside of tennis. Kawamura began the separation when he quit high school to run the sushi restaurant full time. The rest of them weren't sure what happened to him after that. He just became another face in the street.

Oishi became a middle school teacher, last time Momo checked (a very, very, long time ago.) he was engaged. He was probably a dad by now. Momo accidently forgot about the wedding because he had a hangover that day, so they hadn't contacted each other since.

Kaidoh was the only one of the original regulars to actually follow through with tennis. He managed to get an athletic scholarship and continued playing tennis through college until he eventually became a pro. However there is no news of him going into the next summer Olympics.

Eiji was the second tragedy. He had a heat stroke that gave him enough damage to be put in a coma after dehydrating too much during a tennis match. He died three days later.

Tezuka was the only person everyone had kept in touch with at least more than once every half a decade, probably on account of his job. He had grown up to be a successful lawyer. By successful, I mean he's the one representing politicians, CIOs, billionaires, all that good stuff that's on the news every hour.

-------------------------------------

I'm dying, aren't I God? You must really hate me, don't you, to have me die in a hole like this away from everyone, right. After this life is over you'll send me to hell with every other jackass in the world. At least I won't be lonely.

Echizen's breaths became shorter and more desperate. The ka-thump, ka-thump that he listened to everyday just to make sure it was there started to get quieter and less noticeable. He started to get sleepy as his head laid down on the cold dirt, and pretty soon—he didn't feel anything at all.

--------------------------

"I don't know what you're talking about," the flustered Echizen Rinko denied in between sobs, "All my sons are dead! Can't you show any sympathy for a mother that just lost her last son?" She put her head in her hands and cried some more.

"Echizen-san, I'm so sorry," Momo began She's just another parent, don't think about the fact that she's your long-lost best friend's mother. Oh crap. "But we need your help to find your son. Is there anything you can tell us, anything he said, did, that was off?"

She broke into sobs again, "My son has been in a coma for the past four years! How could he tell me anything! Sometimes when I go to visit him…oh god…" Momo held her by her shoulders before she collapsed.

Age had been kind to Rinko over the years. Time, in contrast had not. After her husband died unexpectedly from a condition he had acquired during his tennis career, she became more and more unstable. She was put in a home, temporary until a rich politician agreed to marry her. Losing her sons must have been the last straw.

"Huh, darling, who are you?" Rinko said when she returned.

"Momoshiro Takashi," Momo responded with a bewildered face that she didn't seem to notice.

She smiled, "My son has a friend with the exact same name as you."

"Echizen-san, may I ask you a few questions"…

Momoshiro trudged back his car. Apparently Rinko-san had been unstable for quite some time after her husband's death. The nurses only gave him enough time to ask her two more questions after they almost kicked him out the door.

"Echizen-san, when was the last time you saw your son?"

"Ryoma? Well, right after he came home from school."

"Echizen-san, do you know what year it is?"

"2006, boy, I'm not stupid."

"What about your third son, Kiroshi?"

"I only have two sons, Ryoma and Ryoga. You must have the wrong mother."

Momo saw the nurse glaring at him impatiently, "Thank you, Echizen-san."

Okay, two things he's learned about so far: One, Rinko has a serious case of sress and grief related amnesia that was triggered when talking about her family and two, there was something really fishy about this "Echizen Kiroshi." It was time to find out.

He cringed as he pressed the speed dial key for Inui's number and waited hopefully for the politician to pick up. He did, but before Momo could even say hi, Inui quickly went on,

"I don't have much time, Momo, from all I've heard there isn't any record of an Echizen Kiroshi anywhere but that hospital. Good-bye." He hung up before Momo could open his mouth. Oh well, so much the better for his phone bill.

No records? As in no birth certificate, school attendance, travel…? He knew it! Momo dialed again, "Hey, I'd like to authorize a search for a 17 year old boy, thin, and pale."

The other detective was pretty flustered, but did what he was told. Before the end of the next day, over four hundred policemen and canine search teams had been dispatched. Within five hours a body that matched Momo's vague description had been found.

It was brought in to the forensic lab and identified as Echizen Kiroshi, the alias for Echizen Ryoma. The way he got out of the hospital in the first place was never explained.

"So thirty years later he's been found," Tezuka said.

"Yeah, I guess," Momo answered. He felt tears start to form in his eyes. Thank God he found him. Thank God, at least one time before his life was over.

"What the hell happened to him? He was so promising…"

"He always had a heart condition. It just got worse until he snapped right after the nationals. Too much pressure," Momo tried to explain without any emotion ignoring the deep ache that was forming in his own heart, "Nanjirou pulled some strings with a guy he met during his career to get Ryoma in the hospital as a 17 year old even when he passed thirty. He was more likely to get a heart that way."

"I see," Tezuka responded monotonously, "You don't need to hide it, Momo. You loved that kid."

"Well he's not here anymore. Are you saying I have necrophilia?" Momo laughed bitterly while the tears escaped, "I don't need to be in love with a memory."

That's it for now! If you're not satisfied with the ending, don't worry. All my stories are eligible for revision at some time or another. Don't forget to check out some of my other POT fanfics!

Kamikakushi- "taken by God" It's what you say when you can't explain a disappearance.