Break My Chains, 4/6
Title: Break My Chains, 4/6
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Jail fic! Angsty romance
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji
Summary: Tezuka has to pay his debt to society. So does Fuji.
Word count: 2899
Warnings: AU, minor character death, cute guys being tortured and such
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed, blah.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
“If you do this for me, I’ll tell you what you’ve been craving to know.” Tezuka saw Fuji’s eyes were slightly moist. “After I do, I dare you to look at me in the eyes and tell me I don’t deserve to be here, that I don’t deserve to be punished.”
Tezuka waited patiently for the hours to pass, since Fuji promised him finally tell him everything before the match. He was so anxious he even forgot to notice how dreadful prison lunch was, and when he put the dirty sheets inside the washing machine, he forgot to use detergent so, halfway through the washing cycle, he had to start all over again after mentally cursing his carelessness.
In Tezuka’s mind the clock was beginning to go backwards. When the guard uncuffed them and let them into their cell, he went directly to Fuji’s bed, sat down and waited for him to join
“Why, Tezuka, I’m appalled,” said Fuji, not sounding surprised at all. “I never took you for an impatient guy.”
“Stop deflecting, Fuji,” Tezuka said. He took Fuji’s hand and pulled him until he was sitting on the bed next to Tezuka, not letting his hand go.
“Ok. But you have to keep your promise,” Fuji’s face was getting closer to Tezuka. Fuji’s lips trailed Tezuka's forehead, his cheeks, his lips… he began to take the glasses off the way when a firm hand pushed him away.
“I’m not letting you win this time, you’re not kissing your way out of this,” Tezuka said, his breath sounding a little ragged.
“Are you sure, Tezuka? I’m a great kisser.”
“Fuji...“
“All right, all right,” he said, “I’ll tell you,” he let out a long breath before continuing. “Have I ever told you about my family?”
“No,” he answered.
“My siblings and I grew up in Chiba but my father got transferred to Tokyo. My older sister, Yumiko, got a great job and started working almost right away, but my younger brother, Yuuta, wasn’t quite pleased with the moving. He was sad to leave his friends behind and got stuck with his older brother as his only acquaintance. Yuuta’s always been a little jealous of me and no matter what I do to make him feel better and maybe gain his sympathy, it’s always backfired.” Fuji was no longer smiling.
“When he was admitted to the same high school I went to, I thought things would change between us. We both played tennis and I was already a regular on the team, so I tried to help him train for the playoffs. At the beginning he accepted my help, but he started noticing his technique wasn’t as developed as mine was. That made him very angry and, in a rage attack, he left the school and begged my parents to send him far away from me.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. If he thought he could achieve the self esteem he needed just by being away from me, I wasn’t going to stop him.”
“Ok.”
“He met this guy in his new school, Mizuki. First I was glad for him. I thought he had found a friend that would help him get over himself and get to play his best tennis, but that didn’t happen. Instead, Mizuki started using him to win games, teaching him special techniques he knew were bad for Yuuta, and he didn’t care. I tried to warn Yuuta but he wouldn’t listen to me, so I had to take matters in my own hands.”
Fuji was playing with Tezuka’s fingers. In the time they’d been sharing the cell, he’d never seen Fuji so fidgety.
“We played a game and I threatened to harm him if he kept manipulating my brother. He finally agreed to leave Yuuta alone, and he did for a few months. Yuuta noticed Mizuki wasn’t paying him as much attention as he did before and, for that, he blamed me. When Yuuta finished high school, he said he didn’t want to have anything to do with us, so he moved in with this guy.
“My mother was devastated. Yumiko and I tried calling him, but he never picked up. One day I went to Yuuta’s old school and talked the principal into giving me Mizuki’s address. I went to his place and heard them fighting from the outside. Yuuta was telling Mizuki he wanted to see his mother, but Mizuki insisted his family abandoned him a long time ago and visiting them would only open old wounds unnecessarily.”
“Did you go inside?”
“Yes- and that’s when it happened.” Fuji stopped to take a breath. “Mizuki kept telling him his family hated him and they only wanted him out of their lives,” he continued. “When the yelling was almost unbearable, I decided to break in. There they were; Mizuki was on top of Yuuta beating the crap out of him while he lied on the kitchen floor, shouting. I- I grabbed a knife and I thrust it into his back. He died almost immediately.”
“What did Yuuta do?” asked Tezuka, trying to get over the shock.
“He cursed me and condemned me to hell. I haven’t spoken to him ever since. I only saw him when he testified in the trial.”
“What about the rest of your family?”
“They were all pretty shattered at first. They didn’t tell me, but I know they were grateful, in a very twisted way. Yuuta hasn’t visited me here. My parents came a few times, as did Yumiko, but they haven’t come back in a long time. Yumiko is the one I keep contact with, though she doesn’t come very often. She writes me a letter every week.”
“Why did they send you here? It was a passion crime.”
“Mizuki’s father is a judge. He pulled some strings.”
“I’m sorry, Fuji.”
Fuji stood up and went to the sink to wash his face.
“It’s almost five,” he said. “Don’t forget your promise.”
“I won’t.”
Fuji was a better player than Tezuka had anticipated. Sticking to his promise wouldn’t be a problem at all. In fact, it was very likely Tezuka would lose fair and square. Fuji had techniques Tezuka had never seen in his life and it took him a while to counter those moves, especially since he wasn’t trying very hard.
The crowd was wild. Never in the history of the Good Samaritan Prison House had a match had so much money bet on it. The inmates knew Fuji and they’d seen how vicious he could get when he played and, well, Tezuka’s reputation preceded him.
It was, indeed, a difficult game. The spectators were screaming like crazy, the guards were collecting last minute bets and everybody was trying to discuss the match and predict some possible outcome. It took almost 2 hours to get to a 6-6 score. After a little more than an hour of tiebreak, the guards were growing impatient. The inmates were hungry and rebellious and they were going to start a mutiny anytime soon.
The guards gave an ultimatum. Either the game ended in the next ten minutes or there’ll be hell to pay.
Hearing the threat, Fuji deliberately gave away the last two points with his service, ending the match. He dropped his racket and fell on the floor, letting it cool his drenched body.
“Fuji!” Tezuka screamed and tried to get to his cell partner, but a guard hit him on the stomach with his nightstick and cuffed him before he could get up.
And right there all hell broke loose. The convicts were running amok and the guards were doing the impossible to restrain them. While the inmates were destroying everything on their way, the guards were trying to catch whomever they could and locked them quickly in their cells. Tezuka tried to find Fuji while he was being dragged, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was half expecting to find him on his cell when he got there, but his but deep inside he knew better.
The guards announced there would be no food for anyone that night, which caused all the inmates to curse Tezuka in every way they could think of. They threw at him whatever they had at hand and warned him about how short his life was going to be.
Tezuka wasn’t able to sleep a single minute that night. He was restless. He kept staring at the ceiling, replaying the last minutes of the game in his mind. He didn’t dare to go to breakfast in the morning. He wasn’t hungry and he was concerned about what could happen to him if he walked into the dining room alone; but most of all, he wanted to wait for Fuji.
But Saturday morning came and went, and there was still no sign of him.
When lunchtime was almost over, a guard went inside Tezuka’s cell and forced him to go to eat. Missing classes and religious services was not going to be tolerated in Good Samaritan Prison, the guard said, and next time Tezuka attempted to skip any planned activity, he would be thinking about it in the isolation cell.
Tezuka went to the dining room and ate his food reluctantly. There were only a few people there, which he was grateful for. When he finished, a guard came to take Tezuka away.
“Your lawyer’s here. Come on!”
“Where is Fuji?” he asked, boldly, walking behind the guard.
The guard scoffed. “Shut the fuck up. No one’s given you permission to speak!”
“When is he coming back?”
“Mind your own business, famous boy. And don’t take all day in there, I have places to go, criminals to torture, you know how it is.”
Tezuka had to get hold of all his strength not to hit the guard right there. He felt the knot in his stomach tighten and he kept quiet for the rest of the way.
They arrived to the room where he always saw his visitors. His lawyer was already there, sitting in one of the seats. He sat down beside him waiting for his lawyer to speak.
“We have a date. They informed me just this morning, your sentencing hearing will take place this Tuesday, three days from now,” he said after greeting Tezuka.
“What does that mean?”
“We’ll find out what the verdict is. The judge will decide how much time you ought to spend here or if you can get out on some kind of community service.” He made a short pause and took a deep breath before continuing. “I have to tell you the truth, Tezuka. Things don’t look good for you. You need to be prepared for the worst.”
“What is the worst?”
“Well, you did plead guilty, so there’s not a single chance of an absolutory sentence. Aside from that, I tried to do an arrangement with the D.A., but he wants to go for the highest punishment: he wants to keep you here for life.”
“Will that happen?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s very likely. The good news is you can try to get out on parole in a few years if you behave.”
“I see.”
“I’m sorry, Tezuka, but there’s only so much a lawyer can do.”
“I know.”
“We’ll see again on the courthouses. Good luck.” He stood up and walked to the door, only to turn around before getting out.
“Yes.”
“Oh, and Tezuka? I know this is a bad situation but, believe me, it could be worse. Your father is paying a lot of money, so try to make the best out of this.”
“I will,” he promised. “Thank you, Tsugumi-san.”
Tezuka reluctantly joined his mates on garden duty and shortly after. He was still feeling apprehensive about being with them and he’d rather enjoy the solitude of his cell. Enjoying would be a bit of an understatement, since he was very worried about his cellmate. Actually, worrying was an understatement too; he was really freaking out. In his entire life he had never been so nervous. Tennis made him excited, but not nervous. Exams and tests used to worry him a little, but they didn’t make him fret like this. Those were things he could control but, for the first time in his life, Tezuka was in a situation he didn’t know how to handle.
The day went by as if nothing happened. He could feel the rage of the other inmates, but, surprisingly, no threats or attacks came his way.
He felt a knot in his stomach and an uncomfortable pressure in his throat. He couldn’t focus on the book he was reading and he wasn’t even able to think about the hearing that was coming. When jogging time came, he ran like there was no tomorrow. That relieved the pressure a little bit, but he was still feeling uneasy. The inmates went to eat dinner and all he could do was stare at his plate full of disgusting food he wouldn’t eat feeling the way he did.
“Aren’t you gonna eat that?” said the man sitting beside Tezuka.
“No,” he answered drily.
“You know, Tezuka,” he said, taking Tezuka’s plate in front of him. “I’d hate to see Fuji sad again when you die like the last one.”
Tezuka lifted his face and threw an ice glance at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t know?” he asked with feign concern. “Hehe. You’ll find out soon the consequences of upsetting the Yakuza.”
He stood up and went straight to his cell, avoiding anyone who tried to approach him.
It was late into the night when Tezuka heard the steps approaching his cell. He stayed in his bed and listened to the guard open the gate and then he heard the uncuffing. When he was sure the warden was nowhere near, he stood up searching for Fuji.
“I’m fine, Tezuka, don’t worry,” a soft voice said, revealing Fuji’s location. As soon as the words escaped his lips, he collapsed on Tezuka’s arms.
“Fuji!” Tezuka whispered. He carried Fuji and put him on his bed. Tezuka went to the sink to fetch some water. He took the only towel (it was more and old rag than a towel) and soaked it before returning to Fuji’s side. Slowly he moistened Fuji’s face and started checking his vitals, purposely ignoring his sticky shirt. He didn’t know much about medicine, but Fuji had a pulse and he was breathing; that was enough for now.
About half an hour later, Fuji began coming to his senses. He opened his eyes a bit and found Tezuka sitting beside him.
“Hey,” he said with a soft, gentle voice. “You don’t need to worry, go back to your bed.”
“Are you okay?” Tezuka asked, trying to hide the worry on his voice.
“Don’t underestimate me. In the morning I’ll be as good as new,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to force a smile.
“Fuji, I’m not underestimating you. You fainted!” said Tezuka, his worry turning to annoyance.
“Oh. I must have been very tired, then. I’m going to sleep. Good night, Tezuka.” He tried to turn around and a grunt escaped his lips.
“What did they do to you?” Tezuka asked. Fuji’s breath was agitated and his hands were clutching his stomach. “Let me see. How bad is it?”
“No! Tezuka, please don-” Tezuka ignored Fuji’s pleadings, grabbed his shirt and pulled it up. Fuji swallowed a gasp and Tezuka had to use all of his self-control not to break apart right there.
Fuji’s midriff was practically one huge hematoma of different shades of purple, red and blue. He had a few scars, and some wounds still bleeding.
Fuji was avoiding Tezuka’s gaze.
Without a word, Tezuka went to the sink with the cloth in hands, came back and started cleaning Fuji’s wounds. When he finished treating his stomach, he removed Fuji’s shirt without finding any kind of resistance.
Fuji’s chest and arms were pretty much the same, all covered with bruises and blood. He took care of those wounds and asked Fuji to turn around. Tezuka let out a long sigh.
“Tezuka, I-” Fuji’s voice was breaking; it was too much for Tezuka to handle.
“Don’t speak.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he snapped, immediately sorry for losing his temper.
His back was so sore, Fuji jumped every time Tezuka brushed it with the rag. He had to rinse it many times before it was even close to clean.
Tezuka left the towel in the sink and grabbed a clean t-shirt. He turned Fuji around again and helped him put on the clean garment.
“Fuji, this can’t go on,” Tezuka finally said.
“And what are you going to do about it? Lose on purpose every game you play? You already saw that doesn’t work.”
“No,” he said sternly. And after a brief pause, he continued. “We are going to escape.”
“What?” Fuji couldn’t help but chuckle. “Come on Tezuka, you’re being delirious.”
“I talked to my lawyer today. He thinks there is a big chance I will be locked up here for life. You know I will not be able to lose any match and I don’t want to be responsible for anybody getting hurt. I don’t think I can stand seeing you like this again,” Tezuka whispered.
“Sleep with me tonight.”
Tezuka nodded lightly and lay down beside him, Fuji’s back against his chest.
TBC
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Jail fic! Angsty romance
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji
Summary: Tezuka has to pay his debt to society. So does Fuji.
Word count: 2899
Warnings: AU, minor character death, cute guys being tortured and such
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed, blah.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
“If you do this for me, I’ll tell you what you’ve been craving to know.” Tezuka saw Fuji’s eyes were slightly moist. “After I do, I dare you to look at me in the eyes and tell me I don’t deserve to be here, that I don’t deserve to be punished.”
Tezuka waited patiently for the hours to pass, since Fuji promised him finally tell him everything before the match. He was so anxious he even forgot to notice how dreadful prison lunch was, and when he put the dirty sheets inside the washing machine, he forgot to use detergent so, halfway through the washing cycle, he had to start all over again after mentally cursing his carelessness.
In Tezuka’s mind the clock was beginning to go backwards. When the guard uncuffed them and let them into their cell, he went directly to Fuji’s bed, sat down and waited for him to join
“Why, Tezuka, I’m appalled,” said Fuji, not sounding surprised at all. “I never took you for an impatient guy.”
“Stop deflecting, Fuji,” Tezuka said. He took Fuji’s hand and pulled him until he was sitting on the bed next to Tezuka, not letting his hand go.
“Ok. But you have to keep your promise,” Fuji’s face was getting closer to Tezuka. Fuji’s lips trailed Tezuka's forehead, his cheeks, his lips… he began to take the glasses off the way when a firm hand pushed him away.
“I’m not letting you win this time, you’re not kissing your way out of this,” Tezuka said, his breath sounding a little ragged.
“Are you sure, Tezuka? I’m a great kisser.”
“Fuji...“
“All right, all right,” he said, “I’ll tell you,” he let out a long breath before continuing. “Have I ever told you about my family?”
“No,” he answered.
“My siblings and I grew up in Chiba but my father got transferred to Tokyo. My older sister, Yumiko, got a great job and started working almost right away, but my younger brother, Yuuta, wasn’t quite pleased with the moving. He was sad to leave his friends behind and got stuck with his older brother as his only acquaintance. Yuuta’s always been a little jealous of me and no matter what I do to make him feel better and maybe gain his sympathy, it’s always backfired.” Fuji was no longer smiling.
“When he was admitted to the same high school I went to, I thought things would change between us. We both played tennis and I was already a regular on the team, so I tried to help him train for the playoffs. At the beginning he accepted my help, but he started noticing his technique wasn’t as developed as mine was. That made him very angry and, in a rage attack, he left the school and begged my parents to send him far away from me.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. If he thought he could achieve the self esteem he needed just by being away from me, I wasn’t going to stop him.”
“Ok.”
“He met this guy in his new school, Mizuki. First I was glad for him. I thought he had found a friend that would help him get over himself and get to play his best tennis, but that didn’t happen. Instead, Mizuki started using him to win games, teaching him special techniques he knew were bad for Yuuta, and he didn’t care. I tried to warn Yuuta but he wouldn’t listen to me, so I had to take matters in my own hands.”
Fuji was playing with Tezuka’s fingers. In the time they’d been sharing the cell, he’d never seen Fuji so fidgety.
“We played a game and I threatened to harm him if he kept manipulating my brother. He finally agreed to leave Yuuta alone, and he did for a few months. Yuuta noticed Mizuki wasn’t paying him as much attention as he did before and, for that, he blamed me. When Yuuta finished high school, he said he didn’t want to have anything to do with us, so he moved in with this guy.
“My mother was devastated. Yumiko and I tried calling him, but he never picked up. One day I went to Yuuta’s old school and talked the principal into giving me Mizuki’s address. I went to his place and heard them fighting from the outside. Yuuta was telling Mizuki he wanted to see his mother, but Mizuki insisted his family abandoned him a long time ago and visiting them would only open old wounds unnecessarily.”
“Did you go inside?”
“Yes- and that’s when it happened.” Fuji stopped to take a breath. “Mizuki kept telling him his family hated him and they only wanted him out of their lives,” he continued. “When the yelling was almost unbearable, I decided to break in. There they were; Mizuki was on top of Yuuta beating the crap out of him while he lied on the kitchen floor, shouting. I- I grabbed a knife and I thrust it into his back. He died almost immediately.”
“What did Yuuta do?” asked Tezuka, trying to get over the shock.
“He cursed me and condemned me to hell. I haven’t spoken to him ever since. I only saw him when he testified in the trial.”
“What about the rest of your family?”
“They were all pretty shattered at first. They didn’t tell me, but I know they were grateful, in a very twisted way. Yuuta hasn’t visited me here. My parents came a few times, as did Yumiko, but they haven’t come back in a long time. Yumiko is the one I keep contact with, though she doesn’t come very often. She writes me a letter every week.”
“Why did they send you here? It was a passion crime.”
“Mizuki’s father is a judge. He pulled some strings.”
“I’m sorry, Fuji.”
Fuji stood up and went to the sink to wash his face.
“It’s almost five,” he said. “Don’t forget your promise.”
“I won’t.”
Fuji was a better player than Tezuka had anticipated. Sticking to his promise wouldn’t be a problem at all. In fact, it was very likely Tezuka would lose fair and square. Fuji had techniques Tezuka had never seen in his life and it took him a while to counter those moves, especially since he wasn’t trying very hard.
The crowd was wild. Never in the history of the Good Samaritan Prison House had a match had so much money bet on it. The inmates knew Fuji and they’d seen how vicious he could get when he played and, well, Tezuka’s reputation preceded him.
It was, indeed, a difficult game. The spectators were screaming like crazy, the guards were collecting last minute bets and everybody was trying to discuss the match and predict some possible outcome. It took almost 2 hours to get to a 6-6 score. After a little more than an hour of tiebreak, the guards were growing impatient. The inmates were hungry and rebellious and they were going to start a mutiny anytime soon.
The guards gave an ultimatum. Either the game ended in the next ten minutes or there’ll be hell to pay.
Hearing the threat, Fuji deliberately gave away the last two points with his service, ending the match. He dropped his racket and fell on the floor, letting it cool his drenched body.
“Fuji!” Tezuka screamed and tried to get to his cell partner, but a guard hit him on the stomach with his nightstick and cuffed him before he could get up.
And right there all hell broke loose. The convicts were running amok and the guards were doing the impossible to restrain them. While the inmates were destroying everything on their way, the guards were trying to catch whomever they could and locked them quickly in their cells. Tezuka tried to find Fuji while he was being dragged, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was half expecting to find him on his cell when he got there, but his but deep inside he knew better.
The guards announced there would be no food for anyone that night, which caused all the inmates to curse Tezuka in every way they could think of. They threw at him whatever they had at hand and warned him about how short his life was going to be.
Tezuka wasn’t able to sleep a single minute that night. He was restless. He kept staring at the ceiling, replaying the last minutes of the game in his mind. He didn’t dare to go to breakfast in the morning. He wasn’t hungry and he was concerned about what could happen to him if he walked into the dining room alone; but most of all, he wanted to wait for Fuji.
But Saturday morning came and went, and there was still no sign of him.
When lunchtime was almost over, a guard went inside Tezuka’s cell and forced him to go to eat. Missing classes and religious services was not going to be tolerated in Good Samaritan Prison, the guard said, and next time Tezuka attempted to skip any planned activity, he would be thinking about it in the isolation cell.
Tezuka went to the dining room and ate his food reluctantly. There were only a few people there, which he was grateful for. When he finished, a guard came to take Tezuka away.
“Your lawyer’s here. Come on!”
“Where is Fuji?” he asked, boldly, walking behind the guard.
The guard scoffed. “Shut the fuck up. No one’s given you permission to speak!”
“When is he coming back?”
“Mind your own business, famous boy. And don’t take all day in there, I have places to go, criminals to torture, you know how it is.”
Tezuka had to get hold of all his strength not to hit the guard right there. He felt the knot in his stomach tighten and he kept quiet for the rest of the way.
They arrived to the room where he always saw his visitors. His lawyer was already there, sitting in one of the seats. He sat down beside him waiting for his lawyer to speak.
“We have a date. They informed me just this morning, your sentencing hearing will take place this Tuesday, three days from now,” he said after greeting Tezuka.
“What does that mean?”
“We’ll find out what the verdict is. The judge will decide how much time you ought to spend here or if you can get out on some kind of community service.” He made a short pause and took a deep breath before continuing. “I have to tell you the truth, Tezuka. Things don’t look good for you. You need to be prepared for the worst.”
“What is the worst?”
“Well, you did plead guilty, so there’s not a single chance of an absolutory sentence. Aside from that, I tried to do an arrangement with the D.A., but he wants to go for the highest punishment: he wants to keep you here for life.”
“Will that happen?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s very likely. The good news is you can try to get out on parole in a few years if you behave.”
“I see.”
“I’m sorry, Tezuka, but there’s only so much a lawyer can do.”
“I know.”
“We’ll see again on the courthouses. Good luck.” He stood up and walked to the door, only to turn around before getting out.
“Yes.”
“Oh, and Tezuka? I know this is a bad situation but, believe me, it could be worse. Your father is paying a lot of money, so try to make the best out of this.”
“I will,” he promised. “Thank you, Tsugumi-san.”
Tezuka reluctantly joined his mates on garden duty and shortly after. He was still feeling apprehensive about being with them and he’d rather enjoy the solitude of his cell. Enjoying would be a bit of an understatement, since he was very worried about his cellmate. Actually, worrying was an understatement too; he was really freaking out. In his entire life he had never been so nervous. Tennis made him excited, but not nervous. Exams and tests used to worry him a little, but they didn’t make him fret like this. Those were things he could control but, for the first time in his life, Tezuka was in a situation he didn’t know how to handle.
The day went by as if nothing happened. He could feel the rage of the other inmates, but, surprisingly, no threats or attacks came his way.
He felt a knot in his stomach and an uncomfortable pressure in his throat. He couldn’t focus on the book he was reading and he wasn’t even able to think about the hearing that was coming. When jogging time came, he ran like there was no tomorrow. That relieved the pressure a little bit, but he was still feeling uneasy. The inmates went to eat dinner and all he could do was stare at his plate full of disgusting food he wouldn’t eat feeling the way he did.
“Aren’t you gonna eat that?” said the man sitting beside Tezuka.
“No,” he answered drily.
“You know, Tezuka,” he said, taking Tezuka’s plate in front of him. “I’d hate to see Fuji sad again when you die like the last one.”
Tezuka lifted his face and threw an ice glance at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t know?” he asked with feign concern. “Hehe. You’ll find out soon the consequences of upsetting the Yakuza.”
He stood up and went straight to his cell, avoiding anyone who tried to approach him.
It was late into the night when Tezuka heard the steps approaching his cell. He stayed in his bed and listened to the guard open the gate and then he heard the uncuffing. When he was sure the warden was nowhere near, he stood up searching for Fuji.
“I’m fine, Tezuka, don’t worry,” a soft voice said, revealing Fuji’s location. As soon as the words escaped his lips, he collapsed on Tezuka’s arms.
“Fuji!” Tezuka whispered. He carried Fuji and put him on his bed. Tezuka went to the sink to fetch some water. He took the only towel (it was more and old rag than a towel) and soaked it before returning to Fuji’s side. Slowly he moistened Fuji’s face and started checking his vitals, purposely ignoring his sticky shirt. He didn’t know much about medicine, but Fuji had a pulse and he was breathing; that was enough for now.
About half an hour later, Fuji began coming to his senses. He opened his eyes a bit and found Tezuka sitting beside him.
“Hey,” he said with a soft, gentle voice. “You don’t need to worry, go back to your bed.”
“Are you okay?” Tezuka asked, trying to hide the worry on his voice.
“Don’t underestimate me. In the morning I’ll be as good as new,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to force a smile.
“Fuji, I’m not underestimating you. You fainted!” said Tezuka, his worry turning to annoyance.
“Oh. I must have been very tired, then. I’m going to sleep. Good night, Tezuka.” He tried to turn around and a grunt escaped his lips.
“What did they do to you?” Tezuka asked. Fuji’s breath was agitated and his hands were clutching his stomach. “Let me see. How bad is it?”
“No! Tezuka, please don-” Tezuka ignored Fuji’s pleadings, grabbed his shirt and pulled it up. Fuji swallowed a gasp and Tezuka had to use all of his self-control not to break apart right there.
Fuji’s midriff was practically one huge hematoma of different shades of purple, red and blue. He had a few scars, and some wounds still bleeding.
Fuji was avoiding Tezuka’s gaze.
Without a word, Tezuka went to the sink with the cloth in hands, came back and started cleaning Fuji’s wounds. When he finished treating his stomach, he removed Fuji’s shirt without finding any kind of resistance.
Fuji’s chest and arms were pretty much the same, all covered with bruises and blood. He took care of those wounds and asked Fuji to turn around. Tezuka let out a long sigh.
“Tezuka, I-” Fuji’s voice was breaking; it was too much for Tezuka to handle.
“Don’t speak.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he snapped, immediately sorry for losing his temper.
His back was so sore, Fuji jumped every time Tezuka brushed it with the rag. He had to rinse it many times before it was even close to clean.
Tezuka left the towel in the sink and grabbed a clean t-shirt. He turned Fuji around again and helped him put on the clean garment.
“Fuji, this can’t go on,” Tezuka finally said.
“And what are you going to do about it? Lose on purpose every game you play? You already saw that doesn’t work.”
“No,” he said sternly. And after a brief pause, he continued. “We are going to escape.”
“What?” Fuji couldn’t help but chuckle. “Come on Tezuka, you’re being delirious.”
“I talked to my lawyer today. He thinks there is a big chance I will be locked up here for life. You know I will not be able to lose any match and I don’t want to be responsible for anybody getting hurt. I don’t think I can stand seeing you like this again,” Tezuka whispered.
“Sleep with me tonight.”
Tezuka nodded lightly and lay down beside him, Fuji’s back against his chest.
TBC