shortfic.
Title: In our old age
Characters: Fuji, Oshitari, their respective children
Rating: PG
A/N: This shortfic is written in honor of a very dubious anniversary (three years worth of Prince of Tennis roleplaying). It stars Oshitari, my first muse, and the first muse he bonked, Fuji. :D ♥ to the old OT5.
[For those of you who are also on Nozomi's LJ, ahahahhaa memories (f-locked).]
Oshitari sat back in his rocker, looking out at the children playing in the yard. They were about fourteen, his children and Fuji's. They'd both started late -- now they were in their mid-40s, and Oshitari was feeling his age as the sound of laughter came from the yard. "Ichigo," he called down to his oldest son, "Don't play dirty games. Hands off Kunimitsu." For some reason, that was the name of Fuji's first son. He'd never been able to figure that one out.
Fuji, looking the same as he did when he was fourteen (somehow), was flipping fish on the grill next to Oshitari. He glanced up inscrutably at the yard, shrugging a bit. "Boys will be boys," Fuji said lightly.
Oshitari smiled. "Or at least, our boys will be just like us, I reckon." He sighed and sipped at his beer. "How's Sakuno-chan?"
Fuji's smile went a little wider. "Pregnant," he chuckled, and Oshitari shook his head, laughing.
"Isn't that child four? You two never stop." Oshitari and his wife had stopped at two, figuring they wouldn't be greedy.
"I need to make a whole tennis team," Fuji said, smirking just a little. "As long as Sakuno agrees..."
Somehow, Oshitari was pretty sure Sakuno wasn't up for that, but he could see it -- "Team Tensai," he chuckled. "Damn. They'd be unbeatable. Where is she tonight, anyway?"
"Visiting an old friend." Ryoma had blown into town on a promotional tour, and Sakuno and Ryoma were visiting her grandmother in her assisted care center. Or so Sakuno had told Fuji... "How's Oshitari-san?" Fuji asked in turn, dishing fish onto a plate. The fillets looked spicy, and Oshitari could tell the marinade had wasabi in it.
"She's fine," Oshitari said. "Still working nights." He sighed, feeling a bit worried. She and Gakuto were close...they worked the same shift at the hospital, and Oshitari was always vaguely suspicious that they were having an affair. "I've been relegated to childcare, and we see each other for about an hour between jobs." It kinda sucked. Oshitari had even taken to digging out the old porn collection he'd had in junior high.
"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that," Fuji said, turning and setting Oshitari's plate next to him. Behind him, there was a yelp and a slap.
"Ichigo, up here on the bench for ten minutes," Oshitari growled, his voice filling the yard. "What did I say about grabbing people's bottoms?"
"Only do it if they want it," Ichigo sighed. "I swore Kuni wanted it...but then he slapped me..."
Young love. Oshitari felt a twinge of sympathy in his gut. The Fuji family was always tough to read. "Always err on the side of caution, my son," he said gently.
Ichigo sat sulkily on the bench and Fuji brought him a plate of food. "Here you go. You can use your time wisely and eat while you sit," Fuji said, sitting beside him.
"He's really cute, Fuji-san," Ichigo blurted out.
Fuji stared down at his son fondly. He had long, long dark hair, all plaited up into a tail down his back. "Mm. He is, isn't he. Takes after his mommy except for his eyes." Which were narrow, vaguely merry, and entirely unreadable.
"D-do you know whether or not he likes me?"
"Saa... We don't tell our secrets, you know." Fuji patted Ichigo's shoulder. Not much subtlety to this one, kind of like his 'smooth' father. "If he slapped you, it's a sign he's paying attention, though. Try to beat him at tennis, that'll probably get him worked up."
"Don't encourage him," Oshitari chuckled, eating the fish and diving for water.
Fuji just smiled. "So, it seems that both our wives are busy later. We should watch our old matches."
Their eyes sort of met, and Oshitari's throat was suddenly dry. "If you don't mind stayin' late, Fuji."
"Of course not," Fuji murmured. "Of course not..."
~
Characters: Fuji, Oshitari, their respective children
Rating: PG
A/N: This shortfic is written in honor of a very dubious anniversary (three years worth of Prince of Tennis roleplaying). It stars Oshitari, my first muse, and the first muse he bonked, Fuji. :D ♥ to the old OT5.
[For those of you who are also on Nozomi's LJ, ahahahhaa memories (f-locked).]
Oshitari sat back in his rocker, looking out at the children playing in the yard. They were about fourteen, his children and Fuji's. They'd both started late -- now they were in their mid-40s, and Oshitari was feeling his age as the sound of laughter came from the yard. "Ichigo," he called down to his oldest son, "Don't play dirty games. Hands off Kunimitsu." For some reason, that was the name of Fuji's first son. He'd never been able to figure that one out.
Fuji, looking the same as he did when he was fourteen (somehow), was flipping fish on the grill next to Oshitari. He glanced up inscrutably at the yard, shrugging a bit. "Boys will be boys," Fuji said lightly.
Oshitari smiled. "Or at least, our boys will be just like us, I reckon." He sighed and sipped at his beer. "How's Sakuno-chan?"
Fuji's smile went a little wider. "Pregnant," he chuckled, and Oshitari shook his head, laughing.
"Isn't that child four? You two never stop." Oshitari and his wife had stopped at two, figuring they wouldn't be greedy.
"I need to make a whole tennis team," Fuji said, smirking just a little. "As long as Sakuno agrees..."
Somehow, Oshitari was pretty sure Sakuno wasn't up for that, but he could see it -- "Team Tensai," he chuckled. "Damn. They'd be unbeatable. Where is she tonight, anyway?"
"Visiting an old friend." Ryoma had blown into town on a promotional tour, and Sakuno and Ryoma were visiting her grandmother in her assisted care center. Or so Sakuno had told Fuji... "How's Oshitari-san?" Fuji asked in turn, dishing fish onto a plate. The fillets looked spicy, and Oshitari could tell the marinade had wasabi in it.
"She's fine," Oshitari said. "Still working nights." He sighed, feeling a bit worried. She and Gakuto were close...they worked the same shift at the hospital, and Oshitari was always vaguely suspicious that they were having an affair. "I've been relegated to childcare, and we see each other for about an hour between jobs." It kinda sucked. Oshitari had even taken to digging out the old porn collection he'd had in junior high.
"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that," Fuji said, turning and setting Oshitari's plate next to him. Behind him, there was a yelp and a slap.
"Ichigo, up here on the bench for ten minutes," Oshitari growled, his voice filling the yard. "What did I say about grabbing people's bottoms?"
"Only do it if they want it," Ichigo sighed. "I swore Kuni wanted it...but then he slapped me..."
Young love. Oshitari felt a twinge of sympathy in his gut. The Fuji family was always tough to read. "Always err on the side of caution, my son," he said gently.
Ichigo sat sulkily on the bench and Fuji brought him a plate of food. "Here you go. You can use your time wisely and eat while you sit," Fuji said, sitting beside him.
"He's really cute, Fuji-san," Ichigo blurted out.
Fuji stared down at his son fondly. He had long, long dark hair, all plaited up into a tail down his back. "Mm. He is, isn't he. Takes after his mommy except for his eyes." Which were narrow, vaguely merry, and entirely unreadable.
"D-do you know whether or not he likes me?"
"Saa... We don't tell our secrets, you know." Fuji patted Ichigo's shoulder. Not much subtlety to this one, kind of like his 'smooth' father. "If he slapped you, it's a sign he's paying attention, though. Try to beat him at tennis, that'll probably get him worked up."
"Don't encourage him," Oshitari chuckled, eating the fish and diving for water.
Fuji just smiled. "So, it seems that both our wives are busy later. We should watch our old matches."
Their eyes sort of met, and Oshitari's throat was suddenly dry. "If you don't mind stayin' late, Fuji."
"Of course not," Fuji murmured. "Of course not..."
~