Break my Chains
Title: Break my Chains, 1/6?
Rating: PG-13 (just to be safe) for now
Genre: Jail fic! Angsty romance
Pairing: (will be) Tezuka/Fuji
Summary: Tezuka has to pay his debt to society. So does Fuji.
Word count: 1954
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed, blah.
A/N: I’ll try to update as soon as possible.
A/N 2: I dedicate this to tezuka-andria because she asked me about it like every day :)
Thanks a lot to ketchupblood for the beta ^^
CHAPTER 1
“Strip. And take your glasses off,” the guard ordered sharply. Tezuka tightened his fist. He took his shirt off slowly, but the guard eyed him impatiently.
“Move! I don’t have all day!” the guard yelled. “Do you want me to help you? Move it!” He pointed at Tezuka's boxers. “And that goes off too.”
“Now bend over,” he ordered once Tezuka was fully naked. Tezuka could feel the guard searching all his body and squirmed at the contact. He said nothing, unwilling to give the guard the pleasure of letting him know his humiliation.
“This one’s clean!” he yelled to another guard before addressing Tezuka again. “Go down that aisle, someone’s waiting for you with a nice, welcome bath.” The guard smirked while Tezuka walked away.
Tezuka went slowly through the aisle to the next room, where he saw a guard with a hose and a man being cuffed and taken away.
The jailor wasted no time turning the hose on. It was like a wakeup call. The last days had been surreal. The trial had been quick. He had hired the best lawyer money could buy but even the best couldn’t keep a man out of jail after a guilty plea.
“He may get out on parole in a few years if he behaves,” the lawyer had told his father, as if Tezuka weren't even in the room. “And let’s hope this guy doesn’t die anytime soon; your son could get charged with murder one if he dies before the sentence comes out.”
Tezuka hadn't understood anything the lawyer said. He could hear the man's voice, but the words didn’t register and in the distance he could hear his mother weeping and his father cursing.
When the cold water hit him, images began coming back to him. He remembered the blood, the dirty room, and the man’s pleading eyes. He hadn't bothered washing the blood off his hands, he had just waited until the police arrived and arrested him. Reporters with cameras and recording machines surrounded him. All he could hear were disjointed phrases like ‘promising Australian Open star killed by rival’, ‘did you see all that blood?’ and ‘he deserves capital punishment’.
The guard cuffed him again and sent Tezuka to another guard who gave him clothes, a pillow, and a blanket. The third guard pushed him into a room of naked convicts awaiting instructions. Almost two hours and fifteen men later, three jailors arrived and one started talking.
“You are here because you are a menace to society. Good Samaritan Prison House is for criminals like you, garbage, scum, the worst of the worst,” a guard spat. “Nobody wants you out there and no other facility will handle you. Here you’ll follow a strict schedule. You will do what we order you to do or face the consequences. Here, you are nobody and, believe me, you will be punished if we think you need the discipline.”
The other two guards smirked.
“You’ll eat when we tell you, you’ll sleep when we tell you and you’ll pee when we tell you. You’ll have no leisure time and you won’t have time for daydreaming or planning any criminal activity. When you leave, if you leave, you’ll be a useful member of society again... that is until you relapse.”
His yellow teeth showed as he smiled and his greasy black hair stuck to his forehead in an unhealthy way.
“You have a sheet of rules on a wall in each cell so you won’t forget them," he continued pleasantly. "If you follow these rules, this won’t be the living hell it could be, but that’s entirely up to you.” The guard smirked and Tezuka doubted the decision would be up to them at all.
The guards guided them to a large hall, where inmates started whistling and banging the bars of their cells.
“That’s a pretty boy!”
“And a famous one, too!”
“We don’t see guys so hot around here, come and get it!”
“Wait till I put my hands on you, your ass is gonna be so sore you won’t be able to sit for a month!”
“We want to have a taste of the famous, rich man, leave him with us!”
Tezuka tried to ignore the disgusting old men yelling obscenities failing in the attempt.
“They’re right, you know,” taunted a jailor while he and his colleagues placed the new inmates in their cells. “We don’t get celebrities often and certainly none as pretty as you. Except maybe one, and you’re about to meet him. You’re gonna be the favorite couple from now on.”
Tezuka ignored him. More guards arrived, wondering at the noise.
“Oh, right,” one said, “I forgot the new inmates arrived today. Anything interesting?”
“Oh, look what we’ve got here,” another guard replied, signaling Tezuka. “What do you think?”
“Hm… I don’t know. Ain’t he famous or something?”
“Yeah, he’s a ‘tennis player’,” the jailor mocked.
The newly arrived guards scrutinized Tezuka, and one of them slapped his bottom. Tezuka glared at the insolent man guy so furiously that the guard blushed.
“Feisty, huh,” snapped the guard. “He’ll last longer than the last one.”
The other guards chuckled and one of them dragged Tezuka to a cell.
“Shut up or you will be eating air for the next week!” yelled a guard while banging his nightstick to a cell.
“Here you are, cell number three.” He un-cuffed Tezuka and let him in. “Put the clothes on and get ready for your evening jogging session. That goes for all of you,” he yelled, “I’m coming to get you in ten minutes!” Then he looked straight at the man sprawled on the bed against the wall, “You’ll like this one; he’s famous and all.”
He closed the gate and left Tezuka with his cellmate. Tezuka took his time observing the room. It had two beds and shelves embedded in the wall.
The other man eyed Tezuka while he put his uniform on. “My, my, you really are a celebrity. I heard rumors, but I wasn’t willing to believe until I saw with my own eyes.”
Tezuka turned around to face the man and, who waited until Tezuka was fully clothed before standing up. “I’m Fuji Syuusuke.” He paused for a second and stared at Tezuka. He smiled. “And you are the Tezuka Kunimitsu. Nice to meet you.” Fuji shook Tezuka’s hand.
Tezuka just stood there, watching Fuji with as much fascination as Tezuka had ever allowed. A ‘hi’ escaped his mouth.
Fuji went back to his bed and turned his attention once again to the book he had been holding when Tezuka arrived.
Being grateful for not having to participate in a forced small talk, Tezuka explored the cell again. In one shelf he saw what appeared to be Fuji’s spare uniforms and in another, some books and open envelopes. The ones in the bottom were empty.
“I can move my things so you can use the top shelves, if you want,” Fuji said softly.
“That’s not necessary, thank you.”
Tezuka sat down on his bed, waiting for the guard to arrive again, his mind wandering away from the lockup. When he was a boy and showed interest in tennis, his father wasn’t very keen on letting him play, but his mother convinced him it was just a phase, and as soon as Tezuka grew up, he would leave his racket aside and started focusing on his future as the heir of Tezuka Enterprises.
Several years after, Tezuka was as focused in tennis as he had ever been. His coach was amazed by his talents, every day he was getting better, perfecting his unique techniques and recovering from injuries like no one she’d ever seen. She had a talk with his parents and was very disappointed when they assured her their son was not going to play professional tennis and being captain of the team was as far as he would go. She had plans for him, schools, training camps, tournaments, but they were all shattered.
One day, against his better judgment, Tezuka told his coach he wanted to be a professional player, despite what his parents told her before. She wasn’t convinced at first, but after Tezuka’s team won the nationals, she did everything she could to help him without his parents finding out.
After finishing high school, and even against his father’s wishes, he pursued a successful career in professional tennis. When Tezuka registered in the Australian Open, he was on his way to fulfill his goal: win the four great tennis tournaments before his twenty-first birthday that year.
“Excuse me, Tezuka, are you listening to me?” Fuji’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What? I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he said, lifting his head to face his cellmate.
“I see. I was telling you that we are your fans here. It’s not very common to see a Japanese tennis player get so far in the professional world.” Fuji’s voice was soft and mellow.
Tezuka mumbled ‘thanks’ and he was about to ask how they got outside information living in jail, when the guards arrived and guided them to the central yard.
“No talking! Run! NOW!” yelled a guard. This almost brought a smile to Tezuka’s face as he remembered similar words coming out of his own mouth during his captain years.
Running was liberating, especially after days deprived of exercising. It took him a few laps to notice Fuji was running by his side
“Don’t look so surprised Tezuka, I was an athlete too,” said Fuji.
“I’m not surprised, I just-”
“Didn’t think a small man like me could run as fast as you?” finished Fuji.
“Something like that,” mumbled Tezuka, apologetically. He ran alongside Fuji in silence, neither saying anything else.
A guard took them inside, but they didn’t go back up to their cells. Instead, they ended up in a large, filthy dining hall. The convicts went directly to get food and Tezuka followed.
The food looked neither edible nor healthy. Resigned, Tezuka grabbed a tray and followed Fuji to a table at a corner of the hall.
In the middle of the hall, a huge, bald man stood up and walked straight to another man.
“You’re new,” he stated. The other man said nothing and continued eating. “Do you know what we do with the new guys? We welcome them!” The new inmate sat quietly ignoring the bald man’s flushed face.
Seeing his provocations went unnoticed, he grabbed the man’s t-shirt forcing him to get up and punched him in the face. Hard.
The man fell, and started coughing and spitting blood. The bald man stood there, in all his height, satisfied, hovering over the fallen one.
“Fight, fight, fight!” started yelling the other inmates. They surrounded the two men, their food forgotten on the tables.
Tezuka had to dodge a spoon and a plate full of food landed only a few inches away, splashing all around. He stood there not knowing what to do. Soon the guards contained the riot and took the two convicts away.
He turned to Fuji. “Where are they taking them?”
Fuji turned around, raised an eyebrow and looked directly at Tezuka for the first time since the afternoon jog. “Probably to the isolation cell.”
“Does he do that often? Welcome the new inmates?” Tezuka asked, trying to hide his discomfort.
“Yes, he likes to show who’s the boss around he-. Oh, don’t worry, he only beats one or two newcomers. He’s in isolation now, so you’re safe,” Fuji sounded amused at Tezuka’s concern.
“Why did they take the other man too?”
“What did you expected? We are in prison, Tezuka. They always find a reason to punish you.”
TBC
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Rating: PG-13 (just to be safe) for now
Genre: Jail fic! Angsty romance
Pairing: (will be) Tezuka/Fuji
Summary: Tezuka has to pay his debt to society. So does Fuji.
Word count: 1954
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed, blah.
A/N: I’ll try to update as soon as possible.
A/N 2: I dedicate this to tezuka-andria because she asked me about it like every day :)
Thanks a lot to ketchupblood for the beta ^^
CHAPTER 1
“Strip. And take your glasses off,” the guard ordered sharply. Tezuka tightened his fist. He took his shirt off slowly, but the guard eyed him impatiently.
“Move! I don’t have all day!” the guard yelled. “Do you want me to help you? Move it!” He pointed at Tezuka's boxers. “And that goes off too.”
“Now bend over,” he ordered once Tezuka was fully naked. Tezuka could feel the guard searching all his body and squirmed at the contact. He said nothing, unwilling to give the guard the pleasure of letting him know his humiliation.
“This one’s clean!” he yelled to another guard before addressing Tezuka again. “Go down that aisle, someone’s waiting for you with a nice, welcome bath.” The guard smirked while Tezuka walked away.
Tezuka went slowly through the aisle to the next room, where he saw a guard with a hose and a man being cuffed and taken away.
The jailor wasted no time turning the hose on. It was like a wakeup call. The last days had been surreal. The trial had been quick. He had hired the best lawyer money could buy but even the best couldn’t keep a man out of jail after a guilty plea.
“He may get out on parole in a few years if he behaves,” the lawyer had told his father, as if Tezuka weren't even in the room. “And let’s hope this guy doesn’t die anytime soon; your son could get charged with murder one if he dies before the sentence comes out.”
Tezuka hadn't understood anything the lawyer said. He could hear the man's voice, but the words didn’t register and in the distance he could hear his mother weeping and his father cursing.
When the cold water hit him, images began coming back to him. He remembered the blood, the dirty room, and the man’s pleading eyes. He hadn't bothered washing the blood off his hands, he had just waited until the police arrived and arrested him. Reporters with cameras and recording machines surrounded him. All he could hear were disjointed phrases like ‘promising Australian Open star killed by rival’, ‘did you see all that blood?’ and ‘he deserves capital punishment’.
The guard cuffed him again and sent Tezuka to another guard who gave him clothes, a pillow, and a blanket. The third guard pushed him into a room of naked convicts awaiting instructions. Almost two hours and fifteen men later, three jailors arrived and one started talking.
“You are here because you are a menace to society. Good Samaritan Prison House is for criminals like you, garbage, scum, the worst of the worst,” a guard spat. “Nobody wants you out there and no other facility will handle you. Here you’ll follow a strict schedule. You will do what we order you to do or face the consequences. Here, you are nobody and, believe me, you will be punished if we think you need the discipline.”
The other two guards smirked.
“You’ll eat when we tell you, you’ll sleep when we tell you and you’ll pee when we tell you. You’ll have no leisure time and you won’t have time for daydreaming or planning any criminal activity. When you leave, if you leave, you’ll be a useful member of society again... that is until you relapse.”
His yellow teeth showed as he smiled and his greasy black hair stuck to his forehead in an unhealthy way.
“You have a sheet of rules on a wall in each cell so you won’t forget them," he continued pleasantly. "If you follow these rules, this won’t be the living hell it could be, but that’s entirely up to you.” The guard smirked and Tezuka doubted the decision would be up to them at all.
The guards guided them to a large hall, where inmates started whistling and banging the bars of their cells.
“That’s a pretty boy!”
“And a famous one, too!”
“We don’t see guys so hot around here, come and get it!”
“Wait till I put my hands on you, your ass is gonna be so sore you won’t be able to sit for a month!”
“We want to have a taste of the famous, rich man, leave him with us!”
Tezuka tried to ignore the disgusting old men yelling obscenities failing in the attempt.
“They’re right, you know,” taunted a jailor while he and his colleagues placed the new inmates in their cells. “We don’t get celebrities often and certainly none as pretty as you. Except maybe one, and you’re about to meet him. You’re gonna be the favorite couple from now on.”
Tezuka ignored him. More guards arrived, wondering at the noise.
“Oh, right,” one said, “I forgot the new inmates arrived today. Anything interesting?”
“Oh, look what we’ve got here,” another guard replied, signaling Tezuka. “What do you think?”
“Hm… I don’t know. Ain’t he famous or something?”
“Yeah, he’s a ‘tennis player’,” the jailor mocked.
The newly arrived guards scrutinized Tezuka, and one of them slapped his bottom. Tezuka glared at the insolent man guy so furiously that the guard blushed.
“Feisty, huh,” snapped the guard. “He’ll last longer than the last one.”
The other guards chuckled and one of them dragged Tezuka to a cell.
“Shut up or you will be eating air for the next week!” yelled a guard while banging his nightstick to a cell.
“Here you are, cell number three.” He un-cuffed Tezuka and let him in. “Put the clothes on and get ready for your evening jogging session. That goes for all of you,” he yelled, “I’m coming to get you in ten minutes!” Then he looked straight at the man sprawled on the bed against the wall, “You’ll like this one; he’s famous and all.”
He closed the gate and left Tezuka with his cellmate. Tezuka took his time observing the room. It had two beds and shelves embedded in the wall.
The other man eyed Tezuka while he put his uniform on. “My, my, you really are a celebrity. I heard rumors, but I wasn’t willing to believe until I saw with my own eyes.”
Tezuka turned around to face the man and, who waited until Tezuka was fully clothed before standing up. “I’m Fuji Syuusuke.” He paused for a second and stared at Tezuka. He smiled. “And you are the Tezuka Kunimitsu. Nice to meet you.” Fuji shook Tezuka’s hand.
Tezuka just stood there, watching Fuji with as much fascination as Tezuka had ever allowed. A ‘hi’ escaped his mouth.
Fuji went back to his bed and turned his attention once again to the book he had been holding when Tezuka arrived.
Being grateful for not having to participate in a forced small talk, Tezuka explored the cell again. In one shelf he saw what appeared to be Fuji’s spare uniforms and in another, some books and open envelopes. The ones in the bottom were empty.
“I can move my things so you can use the top shelves, if you want,” Fuji said softly.
“That’s not necessary, thank you.”
Tezuka sat down on his bed, waiting for the guard to arrive again, his mind wandering away from the lockup. When he was a boy and showed interest in tennis, his father wasn’t very keen on letting him play, but his mother convinced him it was just a phase, and as soon as Tezuka grew up, he would leave his racket aside and started focusing on his future as the heir of Tezuka Enterprises.
Several years after, Tezuka was as focused in tennis as he had ever been. His coach was amazed by his talents, every day he was getting better, perfecting his unique techniques and recovering from injuries like no one she’d ever seen. She had a talk with his parents and was very disappointed when they assured her their son was not going to play professional tennis and being captain of the team was as far as he would go. She had plans for him, schools, training camps, tournaments, but they were all shattered.
One day, against his better judgment, Tezuka told his coach he wanted to be a professional player, despite what his parents told her before. She wasn’t convinced at first, but after Tezuka’s team won the nationals, she did everything she could to help him without his parents finding out.
After finishing high school, and even against his father’s wishes, he pursued a successful career in professional tennis. When Tezuka registered in the Australian Open, he was on his way to fulfill his goal: win the four great tennis tournaments before his twenty-first birthday that year.
“Excuse me, Tezuka, are you listening to me?” Fuji’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What? I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he said, lifting his head to face his cellmate.
“I see. I was telling you that we are your fans here. It’s not very common to see a Japanese tennis player get so far in the professional world.” Fuji’s voice was soft and mellow.
Tezuka mumbled ‘thanks’ and he was about to ask how they got outside information living in jail, when the guards arrived and guided them to the central yard.
“No talking! Run! NOW!” yelled a guard. This almost brought a smile to Tezuka’s face as he remembered similar words coming out of his own mouth during his captain years.
Running was liberating, especially after days deprived of exercising. It took him a few laps to notice Fuji was running by his side
“Don’t look so surprised Tezuka, I was an athlete too,” said Fuji.
“I’m not surprised, I just-”
“Didn’t think a small man like me could run as fast as you?” finished Fuji.
“Something like that,” mumbled Tezuka, apologetically. He ran alongside Fuji in silence, neither saying anything else.
A guard took them inside, but they didn’t go back up to their cells. Instead, they ended up in a large, filthy dining hall. The convicts went directly to get food and Tezuka followed.
The food looked neither edible nor healthy. Resigned, Tezuka grabbed a tray and followed Fuji to a table at a corner of the hall.
In the middle of the hall, a huge, bald man stood up and walked straight to another man.
“You’re new,” he stated. The other man said nothing and continued eating. “Do you know what we do with the new guys? We welcome them!” The new inmate sat quietly ignoring the bald man’s flushed face.
Seeing his provocations went unnoticed, he grabbed the man’s t-shirt forcing him to get up and punched him in the face. Hard.
The man fell, and started coughing and spitting blood. The bald man stood there, in all his height, satisfied, hovering over the fallen one.
“Fight, fight, fight!” started yelling the other inmates. They surrounded the two men, their food forgotten on the tables.
Tezuka had to dodge a spoon and a plate full of food landed only a few inches away, splashing all around. He stood there not knowing what to do. Soon the guards contained the riot and took the two convicts away.
He turned to Fuji. “Where are they taking them?”
Fuji turned around, raised an eyebrow and looked directly at Tezuka for the first time since the afternoon jog. “Probably to the isolation cell.”
“Does he do that often? Welcome the new inmates?” Tezuka asked, trying to hide his discomfort.
“Yes, he likes to show who’s the boss around he-. Oh, don’t worry, he only beats one or two newcomers. He’s in isolation now, so you’re safe,” Fuji sounded amused at Tezuka’s concern.
“Why did they take the other man too?”
“What did you expected? We are in prison, Tezuka. They always find a reason to punish you.”
TBC
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4