FicAlert! PoT> Tezuka's Hairy Little Problem (Tezuka. gen. ) PG Pt2
Title: Tezuka's Hairy Little Problem
Recipient's Name: Everybody from the funpotexchange
Author: Everlind
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 11 400
Pairing/Characters: Tezuka. Cameos from various other characters.
Warnings: Crack, Tezuka-style. Sort of. Kittens. Fuji. Kite being purple. Gouya. Oh, and killer whales.
Summary: Tezuka rescues a cat.
Disclaimer: The Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi. This story is based on characters and the universe of The Prince of Tennis, no money is being made from it.
Author's Notes: My recipient was 'the community' (funpotexchange). So I decided not to roll about in Silver Pair like a dog in its own pee and come up with something everybody might enjoy. This happened. Uhm. I'm sorry?
Thanks go to S. and M. for sparking this idea.
This story would not have happened, nor be what it is without the help of my amazing beta neooldetokyo. I am the luckiest bastard alive. Thank you.
Tezuka's Hairy Little Problem
"Why don't you keep her?" Fuji asks during practice next day.
Tezuka frowns at him.
Fuji beams back. "You seem awfully attached to her."
Tezuka frowns some more, adjusts his glasses. Tries to tune Fuji out by letting his eyes follow Kawamura's burning stampede at one side of the court. He nearly beheads an unfortunate Kaidoh who is supposed to function as his doubles partner.
"Have your parents actually told you you had to get rid of her?" Fuji goes on.
He purses his lips.
"We don't think you any less focussed because you've become attached to an animal, Tezuka," Fuji murmurs softly, looking up at him unsmiling.
Tezuka stares at him.
Fuji smiles again. "Well, Inui might," he concedes. "He hopes the cat might be the key to your downfall."
Does he?
"INUI 15 LAPS!"
Inui glasses wink in the early morning sun. After a scribble in his notebook he takes off.
Fuji shakes his head. "And perhaps I was hoping you'd lighten up a little, ne, Tezuka?"
Tezuka narrows his eyes.
Holding up his hands in surrender, Fuji laughs. "I'll start running," and he jogs off to join Inui.
As they pack up afterwards, Kaidoh lingers. He darts furtive glances left and right. Tezuka, thinking he wants to discuss today's doubles match with Kawamura (and their spectacular loss), dutifully lingers. At last the clubhouse empties, with Inui the last to leave and looking as if he would love nothing better than to hide in the laundry basket and spy on them.
"Buchou." Kaidoh says.
His face is red. Seems like that disastrous match really distressed him.
"Here," Kaidoh mumbles, thrusting his fist out at Tezuka.
Tezuka stares. After an impasse of about a minute Tezuka holds out his hand. Kaidoh drops something on his palm and races out as though the devil is on his heels.
It's a little wind-up mouse.
"But I'm not keeping her," Tezuka says to the empty clubhouse.
***
On his way home Tezuka passes the alley again. It seems just as awful and dank and putrid as it did on the day he found her. The cardboard box is still there, sagging and stained, having sucked up all the juice that leaked from a nearby garbage bag with a big tear in the side. The letters on the paper have blurred into nothing more than random hazy squiggles. Inside there's still two fingers' width of murky water.
Suddenly Tezuka can't stand the sight of it anymore.
He grabs the box and lifts it. The sides tear clear away from the bottom and the water splashes onto the bottom of his pants, stinking and disgusting. It trickles down his wrists and into his sleeves when he stuffs it into a dented garbage can, out of sight.
He slams the lid on it and turns his back on the alley.
***
Cat massages Tezuka's belly with little feet. The stink of garbage still seems to linger, elusive and sickeningly sweet, even though he took a scalding hot shower. Flat on his back on bed, Tezuka stares at the ceiling, troubled.
He can't keep Cat.
Inui is right.
He's been late twice, the whole of his allowance is gone and he's had to ask for one in advance so he could buy more milk replacer and litter to fill the tray so she can properly attempt to do her business. There has been no time for English lessons on the radio in the morning nor for The Gluttonous Player Title in the evening. He's completely forgotten about his diary besides the single sentence he set down on the day he found her (incidentally being: 'found a cat today.'). He's had little to no sleep and no extra time to play tennis at all. He thinks about the cat all day and all night, worried and frustrated and hoping she's okay.
Careless.
Not to mention the exams are looming close.
Cat stops kneading and climbs up to his chest to turn herself into a little curl to sleep. Right over his heart.
Tezuka never intended to get a cat.
***
Besides those of his family, Tezuka doesn't have that many numbers listed in his mobile phone. Not even all of his own team members. Some class members. Miyuki. Atobe. A few others.
He's asked everybody from the tennis club and all those he considers friends in school. His mother asked neighbors. And the neighbors' neighbors. He's tried Miyuki and Atobe. Tezuka doesn't want to take Cat to the pound; he won't settle for anything less than a loving home. And he would prefer it if she went to someone he knows, too.
It's not that he really knows Kite, let alone trusts him, but Tezuka's judgement of another's character is infallible and for all that Kite is ruthless, he's also surprisingly caring and loyal. So Tezuka calls Kite as Cat piddles in the tray with litter like a proper little lady.
A static click as the call is answered.
There's a considering pause before Kite talks. "Tezuka," he drawls, slow and pleased.
"Kite." Tezuka answers.
"Do what do I owe this…" a lingering pause, "pleasure?"
Tezuka can imagine him lounging about somewhere, looking like the cat that got the canary, dressed in something impractically form-fitting.
And purple.
Definitely purple.
Very, glaringly purple.
"Tell me, Kite." Tezuka begins. "Do you have any pets?"
"I do." Kite answer, almost reverently.
"Oh?"
"Do you want to meet him?" Kite asks.
Tezuka blinks and shifts uneasily. Glances at the door. Fervently hopes Kite isn't inviting him to… visit. Or intending to visit him.
"Stay right where you are," Kite instructs him, sounding gleeful as though about to offer him a real treat. Not that Tezuka would ever accept any treats from Kite; he's not suicidal. Besides, any animal Kite would keep can't be anything but bad news. Tezuka imagines it to be slick and slippery. An eel, perhaps. Or a poisonous frog. Or some illegal crossbreed of sorts.
There's a rustle and then an hollow absence of noise that signifies he's put the phone down. Tezuka once again glances at the door, thinking that somehow he wouldn't be surprised if Kite was suddenly standing there, looking all purple and his glasses glinting eerily.
Meanwhile Cat inspects her puddle, seems to deem it worthy and then buries it.
Kite returns to the phone. "Tezuka, meet Pi-chan. Say hello to Tezuka, Pi-chan."
Pi-chan says: "I'm going to feed you gouyaaaaaaa."
Applause filters through the phone. Kite is simply delighted. "Good boy Pi-chan! Whosagoodboy? Yesyouare! Yesyouare!"
"Kite?" Tezuka asks.
"Yes?"
"What the hell was that."
"GOUYA!" Pi-chan croaks threateningly.
"Pi-chan is a cockatiel." Kite says. "He's my number one."
Not only is Kite's clothing inappropriately snug and purple and does he play dirty and cheats, he's also clinically insane. Tezuka is not really surprised at all.
"Our eyes met in the pet shop," Kite goes on, his voice going tender and faraway, as though reliving a wondrous moment. "It was fate. Sometimes, Tezuka… you just know when it's right. You'll feel it in your bones."
"I see," Tezuka says neutrally.
"Goooooooooooooooouuuuuuuu-" Pi-chan interjects, "-yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."
"Whosaprettybird? whosaprettybird?"
"Gouya."
"Pi-chan is!"
As nobody but Cat can see him do it, Tezuka takes the liberty of making a face.
"I'll kill anybody who'll harm a feather on Pi-chan's head!" Kite informs him at that moment, as though having sensed a disturbance in the force. He sounds direly serious.
Only his head? Tezuka thinks. Better not say that. He might wake with Kite standing over his bed, dressed in a purple cat burglar suit, about to force-feed gouya to him. He's not quite sure what would get to him first: all the purple, or the gouya. He decides not to mention Cat, either. For some reason Tezuka doubts that offering Kite to adopt Pi-chan's natural enemy would be a good move.
He'd better extract himself with haste. "It was nice to meet you… Pi-chan," he says, mouth twisting.
"Say bye-bye to Tezuka, Pi-chan!" Kite goes, apparently never once suspecting Tezuka from anything else but a burning desire to meet his brain-addled bird and listen to it threatening him with gouya.
"Feed. You. GOUYA." Pi-chan says.
"Yes, good day," Tezuka replies and promptly hangs up.
This conversation may just give him nightmares.
***
"Saa, Tezuka," Fuji says at practice next day.
Tezuka is not in the mood for Fuji. Inui just fed Momoshiro a glass of his newest batch: Inui's super-special-ultra-awesome-spectacular-utterly-mindblowing-majestic-and-shiny Juice Deluxe version 5 point three and two quarters.
Momoshiro seems to be quite dead.
Inui takes notes. "Not quite what I was expecting to happen," he murmurs as he nudges Momoshiro with the tip of his trainer.
"Tezuka?" Fuji prompts, poking him with a sharp finger right between his ribs.
"Aa," Tezuka goes, through clenched teeth.
"Why don't you ask Yuuta? About the cat? Yuuta loves cute animals!"
Tezuka blinks and stares at him. Fuji is making about as much sense as his tennis does.
"We can go ask him as soon as practice is over," Fuji says, smiling. "Ne? It's a date! Eiji, want to play a game?" he hollers and then positively skips off.
Tezuka stares at his retreating back and feels the onset of migraine creeping up on him.
***
They meet Yuuta at the street courts. As if it is not bad enough that Fuji is there… being, well, Fuji, Mizuki is there, too. Yes. Definitely a migraine. All Tezuka can think of is that he wants to be home, tucked up in bed with a novel and Cat curled up in the curve of his neck, purring. Instead he's somewhere near St. Rudolph's. With two Fujis and Mizuki.
And it is raining again.
Mizuki is wearing a purple raincoat.
Tezuka eyes is wearily.
And the umbrella that Yuuta is holding up for him has golden roses on it.
Tezuka eyes that wearily, too.
And when Mizuki puckers his lips and liberally applies pink gloss, Tezuka decides to avoid looking at him altogether, lest the purple canary shrieking GOUYAGOUYAGOUYA from his dreams last night is possibly joined by something even worse.
Which is proving to be hard as the first thing Mizuki does is flounce up to him and announce, "Tezuka-kun. Good to see you," as though they're old chums in a golf club. He tosses his head and his hair does an artful flip in response. "Fuji," he adds. Significantly.
"Hn," Tezuka goes, deciding that some noise of acknowledgement is in order as not to appear completely impolite.
Fuji looks right through Mizuki. "Yuuta!" he says, smiling happily.
"Yo, aniki," Yuuta replies, corner of his mouth tugging up. "Tezuka-san," he adds, politely, inclining his head.
As… unique as Fuji's tennis is, sometimes Tezuka wishes they'd have gotten Yuuta instead. Yuuta, whilst young and reckless, is normal. Mostly. More normal than his brother, at least.
"What did you want to see me for, aniki?" Yuuta asks, stuffing his free hand in the pocket of his windbreaker.
"Tennis, I assume?" Mizuki chuckles as he plays with his hair. "Nfu."
Fuji ignores him. "Do you want a kitten, Yuuta?"
Yuuta blinks. "Uhm. Why?" he ventures.
There, see? Yuuta is normal. The first one not to repeat 'cat' as though he's never heard of such an outrageous concept before. Maybe he can swap club members with Akazawa. Heavens know that St. Rudolph can use stronger players and Tezuka would be able to boast having at least one normal individual on his team. Which might just be worth ditching Fuji for.
"I found an abandoned kitten a few days ago," Tezuka tells him.
"That's terrible," Yuuta says, looking genuinely scandalized that there's still people on the loose who're that heartless.
Tezuka makes a mental memo to call Akazawa as soon as possible.
"So, what do you say?" Fuji prompts, elbowing Tezuka with a smug little quirk sitting around his mouth.
"Yuuta," Mizuki says.
"Er," Yuuta glances sideways at Mizuki and then back at Tezuka. "I suppose I could ask the principal? I think there's this one guy a floor up who's got a bunny."
"Yuuta," Mizuki says.
"Maybe Onee-san could go with you, Yuuta!" Fuji tells him enthusiastically. "Her… physical presence is usually rather convincing."
Yuuta blinks an innocent blink. "Uh, er, I suppose," he says.
"Yuuta," Mizuki says.
"You could have all the kitten's commodities I've obtained so far, too," Tezuka feels obliged to point out.
"Really?" Yuuta says, grinning. "That's great, I-"
"YUUTA!" Mizuki shrieks.
"-I … what, Mizuki-san?" Yuuta turns to him, a faint frown on his features.
Mizuki hold up a finger. The nails seems suspiciously… periwinkle. Tezuka promptly looks at the ground. "First of all, my hair is getting wet." Glancing at the umbrella, Yuuta hastily rightens it, spluttering an apology. "Second of all…" He pauses dramatically. "A cat?"
Yuuta stares at him. "I like cats," he says.
"A. CAT." Mizuki repeats, turning about as purple in his face as his coat is.
"…yes?" Yuuta says lifting a brow.
Mizuki puts the back of his hand to his brow and swoons. "I can't believe you'd be that inconsiderate of me, Yuuta," he sniffs.
Fuji glares at him.
"What-what do you mean?" Yuuta babbles, looking worried.
"HAIR! Yuuta-kun!" Mizuki says mournfully. "Hair. Cat hair. Everywhere. On all my clothes!"
"Uhm," says Yuuta.
"MY CLOTHES. YUUTA-KUN!" Mizuki adds.
"I…I…" Yuuta flounders.
"What are you even doing in my little brother's room?" Fuji asks sweetly.
Mizuki glances nervously at him. Yuuta mumbles something about homework, red in the face. Fuji's eyes, instead of narrowing, go even wider.
Mizuki pouts. "The idea is preposterous. I can't believe you were considering this without even a single thought about the consequences."
It seems that consequences is interchangeable with 'Mizuki's wardrobe'. Tezuka sighs.
"But-" Yuuta mumbles.
"No more!" Mizuki moans, looking away and blinking rapidly. One sob escapes him. "It is clear where your priorities lie. I shall go now. I think I need to lie down in a dark room, I can't… I just- can't…."
A pause.
Mizuki isn't going. He's still standing there, posing as if about to rush away in anguish, not moving.
"Ahem," Mizuki says.
Yuuta looks at him, lost.
"The umbrella, please?" he hisses through his lips.
"Oh!" Yuuta gives it to him.
Mizuki twirls off.
The three of them stand in silence, rain misting down on them. If Yuuta is in the least bit disconcerted about the… oddity of the situation (and Mizuki), he's hiding it well. In fact, he rather looks as though this is something he deals with on a regular basis.
Instead he mops rain off his face with the back of his hand. "I guess that's a no, then." Yuuta says, sounding disappointed. "Sorry, Tezuka-san."
"Aa," Tezuka nods. "It is no trouble."
And there's no way he's letting Cat anywhere near Mizuki.
"Yuuta," Fuji speaks up, voice like liquid honey. "Does Mizuki help you with your homework… a lot?"
"Uhm."
"Does he ask you to do strange things, Yuuta-kun?" Fuji insists. "Or does he touch you? In inappropriate places?"
"ANIKI!" Yuuta shrills, going red in the face.
That's when Tezuka decides it is time to go home. He's reached his quota of being able to deal with sheer madness today and then some. Likely enough to last him for ever.
No more.
***
Cat hasn't had any other accidents besides that one time she peed down his neck. Both Tezuka and she like for her to ride on his shoulder. Cat will nestle under his hair and purr, little claws clutching at his shirt, sometimes accidentally puncturing his skin below. Tezuka doesn't mind much. He rather likes tipping his head to the side and feeling the soft brush if her fur against his skin.
That's where she's sitting when Tezuka decides to tell his parents that he has failed to find a home for her and maybe they could consider keeping her.
"You were still looking?" His father says, frowning vaguely. "She been here for nearly two weeks. Your mother and I have already rather resigned ourselves to her staying here."
Tezuka counts. It hasn't seemed as long to him.
"Of course, sweetheart," his mother says, smiling. "I am actually sort of happy to see you taking to the cat so. I am sure you are different around your friends but here at home you are so serious at times!" she titters. "Even worse than your father."
"Honey," his father mumbles, frowning.
Tezuka frowns, too.
"Just mind that you have to care for her yourself. We'll help you with some necessities, like the litter," his father tells him, giving him a level look. "A shame of your allowance, otherwise, I think."
Tezuka bows his head, heart strangely buoyed. Cat rattles her purr into his ear. "Thank you," he says, softly.
His father flashes a rare smile at him.
"What are you going to name her?" his mother asks him, beaming up at him as though Tezuka has just conquered some vastly important milestone in his life.
"Cat," Tezuka says. It's how he's been thinking of her for a while.
"…just Cat?" his mother repeats, smile falling and looking exasperated.
"There's a certain logic in that," his father adds, sounding nearly amused. He catches Tezuka's eye.
"Well," Tezuka says, smiling not quite back at his father. "She is cat-shaped."
"True that," his father nods sagely.
Tezuka's mother throws her hands into the air. "Oh, the two of you!" she exclaims and stomps off to vent her frustration on the dishes. His father and he share a rare lifting of the corner of their mouths.
Back in his room, Tezuka watches Cat play with the toy mouse Kaidoh bought her. Cat stalks it, intent and serious, even when it has run down and just lies there. Every few minutes Tezuka will reach out and re-wind it and let it shoot off again, making Cat nearly ballistic as she tears after it, all clumsy stick-legs and twitching tail.
She's his. She's staying.
Forever.
There's a knock on his door and his grandfather sticks his head inside. "Sanada's kid will take the cat."
"What?" Tezuka blurts, surprising himself.
A peculiar look crosses his grandfather's features, nearly hidden by the semi-shadows of the hallway. "Genichirou."
Tezuka feels like he did during that match against Atobe. The sensation of throbbing pain and something slipping through his fingers -so close. Nearly unforgivably close. The toy rockets to a halt against the side of his foot. Cat bounds up to it, but instead of attacking she lies down on his foot. Tezuka stares at her, numb.
"Mother and father just said…" he begins, haltingly.
"I heard," his grandfather interrupts him, not unkindly. "But I went out of my way to ask and he said yes. Will you back away now?"
Cat has stopped purring. She's rigid.
Tezuka feels the same.
But what he says is: "Of course not. Thank you for your hard work."
***
It is like he's not really there when he packs Cat's things the next day. The litter tray has been scrubbed clean and Tezuka puts the remainder of the milk replacer, as much cans as he can and the mouse inside. His hands move methodically, stomach churning, while fighting the way his throat constricts.
Cat is sitting on his bed, watching him.
Tezuka can't look at her.
It is for the best. He knows this. Just looking back at the absolute chaos that represent the past two weeks of his life tells him enough. Not to mention the state his bedroom is in. The cans taking up half of it, the molested tennis balls, the brand new racket strings that she's chewed on. When she's adopted Tezuka's life could line up seamlessly with his old routine again, there could be more tennis and more time for studying. He might write in his diary again. He'll have enough sleep again. Everything would be as it is supposed to be.
But what he feels has nothing to do with logic at all.
It hurts to pick her up and tuck her against him, bearing her away. He can't look at his mother frowning at him out of the living room.
This is the right thing to do.
Sanada.
How come he never even actually considered Sanada? How come he thought of someone like Kite, but not Sanada? He interacts far more with Sanada and has known him for years. Sanada, besides perhaps Oishi and Kaidoh, would be the most obvious choice of all.
So why did he never even think of asking him? Perhaps, unconsciously, because some part of him knew that Sanada would say yes.
His grandfather drives him. The litter tray slides around a little on the seat next to him, but Cat is tucked against his chest in the crook of his arm. Tiny, delicate claws are hooked tight into his sweater and her ears are flat. She looks as miserable as the day he found her.
The ride to Sanada is rather long, but it seems much too short to Tezuka. Through the window a green haze of wet, dripping cedar trees flashes by, interspersed with pockets of equally drenched, waving bamboo. Everything is gray and cold and sodden, much like his insides. His eyes ache, he was unable to sleep but for brief, restless snatches. Part of that is due to sitting up against the headboard with Cat napping in the cradle of his arms. So little. Only a baby.
Will she forget about him very fast?
When they pull into the drive of Sanada's house and pass the Koi pond, Tezuka thinks he may just be unable to get out of the car. His whole body seems to freeze, worse than yips, a wave of numbness engulfing him like a cold wave. He's always loved the way Sanada's house looks: traditional and compelling. Serene. Now he'd rather be home, take a small leap into the past and remain stranded back into yesterday evening.
Anticipating their arrival, the front door opens and Sanada's grandfather hobbles out. After a moment, Sanada comes trailing behind.
Whatever it is that he feels, it is not yips. Tezuka takes a deep breath, adjusts his glasses and slides out of the car, shielding Cat from the frosty bite of the wind that rakes the mountains so high up.
Sanada looks like he always does. Tall, broad and forbiddingly serious. The only aspect out of place is the lack of his cap, revealing a glorious cowlick in his hair, sticking up as though inspiring to be an antenna one day.
"Tezuka," he says, giving a stiff jerk of the head in greeting. "Renji mentioned that Inui had told him about your, ah, problem."
My furry little problem.
Tezuka feels his throat close up dangerously. Barely he manages a nod and he's quite unable to muster up so much as a shred of annoyance about Inui's gossiping. He coughs to clear his throat. "I have her litter tray with her things with me," he begins, fighting his own voice into flawless steadiness. "I figured you would have better use for them, now."
"Aa," Sanada agrees. His eyes fall to Tezuka's chest, where Cat clings like a fledgeling bat to the wall of a cave. His face softens.
He swallows. Cat seems fragile between his fingers, ribs like spun glass barely protecting the frantic hammer of her tiny heart, the fur like downy gossamer, ill equipped to protect her from any harm.
It is better like this. Tezuka lifts her away from himself.
Cat digs in her nails and mewls, dragging his clothes away from his body with her, before a small tug disconnects her. Paws spread wide, she grips uselessly at the air, suspended. Her tail is tucked up against her tummy.
Tezuka holds her out to Sanada, eyes averted.
Sanada's large hands lift to receive her, but drop before he actually takes her. "Tezuka," he says. "You don't-"
"I do," Tezuka injects, voice flat and cool. "I cannot keep her. It would be careless."
One of Sanada's brow lifts as he gives Tezuka a Look.
Tezuka is not much of a talker, even about something that lights him afire with passion such as tennis. Nor is he prone to showing his emotions, not for any other reason than that's who he is. But words escape him now, despite himself, in a flat monotone as though he's discussing something as trivial as a grain of sand, and not the creature he is making himself give up.
"I do not have the time, nor place to keep her. My room is full of cat food for which I have no place and because I have to contain her there she chews on everything. The strings of my rackets, the pages of my novels, the wires of my computer. It has been necessary for me to severely disturb my usual routine to feed her and care for. I have barely had the time to continue following my English lessons on the radio, or even make entries in my diary, let alone go to bed at a respectable hour. I am not particularly good at feeding her, my uniforms and clothes are constantly stained. I have done nothing but care for the cat for two weeks, with barely any regard towards my tennis and doing only a mediocre amount of effort for school." He takes a deep breath, head swimming. Cat hangs motionless between his fingers, staring up at him. "Exams and tennis are coming up. I need to be prepared," he finishes.
There.
All of it is absolutely true.
Sanada will understand why it needs to be so. But Sanada just stands there and looks at him, still with that eyebrow lifted. He appears almost amused.
Tezuka feels a curl of frustration, or even more. Is he mocking him?
"There is no reason for me to keep her," Tezuka grits out and thrusts her a little closer towards Sanada still.
Sanada makes no move to accept the cat, but clears his throat instead. "There is," he tells Tezuka.
Tezuka stares at him.
"You do not want to give her away." Sanada says, matter-of-factly. "Tezuka. I estimate one more week and she'll be ready to start on solid food. In a few weeks she'll be almost entirely self-sufficient. After a couple of months she'll roam outside for a considerable amount of time. Cats are like that. Self-sufficient."
"But-"
"Atobe told me that he played you recently," Sanada's voice cuts in like the blade of a sword. The wind scatters a lock of hair across his forehead. His eyes burn like fire. "He told me you were more formidable than ever."
Tezuka shakes his head. "But-"
"Before long the cat will be entirely independent," Sanada goes on steadily, like waves hitting a rocky shore with endless patience. "Not to mention that I highly suspect that this so called mediocre amount of effort towards both school and tennis will be unnoticed by anybody else but yourself."
"And Inui," Tezuka mutters, despite himself.
Sanada's mouth curves slightly. Now he does lift a hand and almost despite himself Tezuka has to suppress the violent urge to snatch Cat out of reach. A hand lands on Tezuka's shoulder, warm. "Just keep the cat, Tezuka." Sanada says. "You don't want to give her to me."
Cat chooses that moment to cry. It's a forlorn, weak whimper that stabs home like a dagger to his heart. Gathering her into a fuzzy ball under his chin makes something thaw inside of him. Cat clutches at him.
"And I don't think the cat wants you to, either." Sanada adds. And then he cracks a rare smile.
It is enough to leave Tezuka less than succinct for a while, disbelieving.
But then slowly he smiles back.
***
"There's a problem," Tezuka says.
Both their grandfathers cease their discussing of whose wrinkles are the most glorious to behold.
"A problem?" Sanada's grandfather says.
"Aa," Sanada says. "Achoo. Achoo." he adds.
Tezuka nods, too. All serious. "It seems Sanada is allergic to Cat."
"You are?" Sanada's grandfather says, sounding perplexed.
"Achoo achoo," Sanada says. Again. "Achoo." One more for good measure.
"Huh." Sanada's grandfather goes, brows lifting. "I don't remember you ever being."
"A terrible shame," Tezuka nods solemnly.
"Sure is. Achoo sniff," Sanada says.
Tezuka's grandfather stares hard at him, eyes keen. "Hm," he rubs his chin, dragging wrinkles in his wake. "Seems like you have no choice but to keep it," he says.
"I shall do what is necessary," Tezuka replies dutifully.
"Achoo," Sanada says.
"Kunimitsu," his grandfather says. "Don't be careless again." His eyes are entirely too knowing, but suddenly kind and slightly amused. He seems to be fighting a smile.
Tezuka looks down at Cat cuddled away in his clothes. "Aa," he agrees. He won't be. It nearly cost him more than he was prepared to give.
And it seems like his grandfather knew this. A test?
A gnarled but strong hand takes his bicep and steers him towards the car. "Let's go home," his grandfather says.
Cat goes with them.
-omake-
A week later Tezuka receives a padded envelope in the mail. His mother brings it up to his room for him, interrupting him as he studies. Cat sits near his feet, gobbling out of her dish. Instead of milk on the floor and on his clothes, it is now gourmet cat food.
There's more inside than just a letter. He cannot recall expecting anything at all. Carefully he cuts it open, mindful not to potentially damage anything inside in case he needs to send it back.
Out falls a collar. A cat collar.
Tezuka nearly recoils in horror.
If Kite and Mizuki hooked up and did unspeakable things together, this might just be the result of it. The collar is a lurid, eye-watering purple, with pink roses stitched across every single millimeter of it. Diamonds sparkling brighter than Fuji's tennis line it at regular intervals. A golden medallion finishes it off. Engraved on the front is 猫.
Tezuka frowns at it, then gingerly reads the accompanying note.
It's from Atobe.
After a beat, Tezuka laughs. Out loud.
His mother yells up, asking whether he is alright and what is that strange noise?
He tells her he's alright.
More than ever.
-fin-
Recipient's Name: Everybody from the funpotexchange
Author: Everlind
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 11 400
Pairing/Characters: Tezuka. Cameos from various other characters.
Warnings: Crack, Tezuka-style. Sort of. Kittens. Fuji. Kite being purple. Gouya. Oh, and killer whales.
Summary: Tezuka rescues a cat.
Disclaimer: The Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi. This story is based on characters and the universe of The Prince of Tennis, no money is being made from it.
Author's Notes: My recipient was 'the community' (funpotexchange). So I decided not to roll about in Silver Pair like a dog in its own pee and come up with something everybody might enjoy. This happened. Uhm. I'm sorry?
Thanks go to S. and M. for sparking this idea.
This story would not have happened, nor be what it is without the help of my amazing beta neooldetokyo. I am the luckiest bastard alive. Thank you.
Tezuka's Hairy Little Problem
"Why don't you keep her?" Fuji asks during practice next day.
Tezuka frowns at him.
Fuji beams back. "You seem awfully attached to her."
Tezuka frowns some more, adjusts his glasses. Tries to tune Fuji out by letting his eyes follow Kawamura's burning stampede at one side of the court. He nearly beheads an unfortunate Kaidoh who is supposed to function as his doubles partner.
"Have your parents actually told you you had to get rid of her?" Fuji goes on.
He purses his lips.
"We don't think you any less focussed because you've become attached to an animal, Tezuka," Fuji murmurs softly, looking up at him unsmiling.
Tezuka stares at him.
Fuji smiles again. "Well, Inui might," he concedes. "He hopes the cat might be the key to your downfall."
Does he?
"INUI 15 LAPS!"
Inui glasses wink in the early morning sun. After a scribble in his notebook he takes off.
Fuji shakes his head. "And perhaps I was hoping you'd lighten up a little, ne, Tezuka?"
Tezuka narrows his eyes.
Holding up his hands in surrender, Fuji laughs. "I'll start running," and he jogs off to join Inui.
As they pack up afterwards, Kaidoh lingers. He darts furtive glances left and right. Tezuka, thinking he wants to discuss today's doubles match with Kawamura (and their spectacular loss), dutifully lingers. At last the clubhouse empties, with Inui the last to leave and looking as if he would love nothing better than to hide in the laundry basket and spy on them.
"Buchou." Kaidoh says.
His face is red. Seems like that disastrous match really distressed him.
"Here," Kaidoh mumbles, thrusting his fist out at Tezuka.
Tezuka stares. After an impasse of about a minute Tezuka holds out his hand. Kaidoh drops something on his palm and races out as though the devil is on his heels.
It's a little wind-up mouse.
"But I'm not keeping her," Tezuka says to the empty clubhouse.
***
On his way home Tezuka passes the alley again. It seems just as awful and dank and putrid as it did on the day he found her. The cardboard box is still there, sagging and stained, having sucked up all the juice that leaked from a nearby garbage bag with a big tear in the side. The letters on the paper have blurred into nothing more than random hazy squiggles. Inside there's still two fingers' width of murky water.
Suddenly Tezuka can't stand the sight of it anymore.
He grabs the box and lifts it. The sides tear clear away from the bottom and the water splashes onto the bottom of his pants, stinking and disgusting. It trickles down his wrists and into his sleeves when he stuffs it into a dented garbage can, out of sight.
He slams the lid on it and turns his back on the alley.
***
Cat massages Tezuka's belly with little feet. The stink of garbage still seems to linger, elusive and sickeningly sweet, even though he took a scalding hot shower. Flat on his back on bed, Tezuka stares at the ceiling, troubled.
He can't keep Cat.
Inui is right.
He's been late twice, the whole of his allowance is gone and he's had to ask for one in advance so he could buy more milk replacer and litter to fill the tray so she can properly attempt to do her business. There has been no time for English lessons on the radio in the morning nor for The Gluttonous Player Title in the evening. He's completely forgotten about his diary besides the single sentence he set down on the day he found her (incidentally being: 'found a cat today.'). He's had little to no sleep and no extra time to play tennis at all. He thinks about the cat all day and all night, worried and frustrated and hoping she's okay.
Careless.
Not to mention the exams are looming close.
Cat stops kneading and climbs up to his chest to turn herself into a little curl to sleep. Right over his heart.
Tezuka never intended to get a cat.
***
Besides those of his family, Tezuka doesn't have that many numbers listed in his mobile phone. Not even all of his own team members. Some class members. Miyuki. Atobe. A few others.
He's asked everybody from the tennis club and all those he considers friends in school. His mother asked neighbors. And the neighbors' neighbors. He's tried Miyuki and Atobe. Tezuka doesn't want to take Cat to the pound; he won't settle for anything less than a loving home. And he would prefer it if she went to someone he knows, too.
It's not that he really knows Kite, let alone trusts him, but Tezuka's judgement of another's character is infallible and for all that Kite is ruthless, he's also surprisingly caring and loyal. So Tezuka calls Kite as Cat piddles in the tray with litter like a proper little lady.
A static click as the call is answered.
There's a considering pause before Kite talks. "Tezuka," he drawls, slow and pleased.
"Kite." Tezuka answers.
"Do what do I owe this…" a lingering pause, "pleasure?"
Tezuka can imagine him lounging about somewhere, looking like the cat that got the canary, dressed in something impractically form-fitting.
And purple.
Definitely purple.
Very, glaringly purple.
"Tell me, Kite." Tezuka begins. "Do you have any pets?"
"I do." Kite answer, almost reverently.
"Oh?"
"Do you want to meet him?" Kite asks.
Tezuka blinks and shifts uneasily. Glances at the door. Fervently hopes Kite isn't inviting him to… visit. Or intending to visit him.
"Stay right where you are," Kite instructs him, sounding gleeful as though about to offer him a real treat. Not that Tezuka would ever accept any treats from Kite; he's not suicidal. Besides, any animal Kite would keep can't be anything but bad news. Tezuka imagines it to be slick and slippery. An eel, perhaps. Or a poisonous frog. Or some illegal crossbreed of sorts.
There's a rustle and then an hollow absence of noise that signifies he's put the phone down. Tezuka once again glances at the door, thinking that somehow he wouldn't be surprised if Kite was suddenly standing there, looking all purple and his glasses glinting eerily.
Meanwhile Cat inspects her puddle, seems to deem it worthy and then buries it.
Kite returns to the phone. "Tezuka, meet Pi-chan. Say hello to Tezuka, Pi-chan."
Pi-chan says: "I'm going to feed you gouyaaaaaaa."
Applause filters through the phone. Kite is simply delighted. "Good boy Pi-chan! Whosagoodboy? Yesyouare! Yesyouare!"
"Kite?" Tezuka asks.
"Yes?"
"What the hell was that."
"GOUYA!" Pi-chan croaks threateningly.
"Pi-chan is a cockatiel." Kite says. "He's my number one."
Not only is Kite's clothing inappropriately snug and purple and does he play dirty and cheats, he's also clinically insane. Tezuka is not really surprised at all.
"Our eyes met in the pet shop," Kite goes on, his voice going tender and faraway, as though reliving a wondrous moment. "It was fate. Sometimes, Tezuka… you just know when it's right. You'll feel it in your bones."
"I see," Tezuka says neutrally.
"Goooooooooooooooouuuuuuuu-" Pi-chan interjects, "-yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."
"Whosaprettybird? whosaprettybird?"
"Gouya."
"Pi-chan is!"
As nobody but Cat can see him do it, Tezuka takes the liberty of making a face.
"I'll kill anybody who'll harm a feather on Pi-chan's head!" Kite informs him at that moment, as though having sensed a disturbance in the force. He sounds direly serious.
Only his head? Tezuka thinks. Better not say that. He might wake with Kite standing over his bed, dressed in a purple cat burglar suit, about to force-feed gouya to him. He's not quite sure what would get to him first: all the purple, or the gouya. He decides not to mention Cat, either. For some reason Tezuka doubts that offering Kite to adopt Pi-chan's natural enemy would be a good move.
He'd better extract himself with haste. "It was nice to meet you… Pi-chan," he says, mouth twisting.
"Say bye-bye to Tezuka, Pi-chan!" Kite goes, apparently never once suspecting Tezuka from anything else but a burning desire to meet his brain-addled bird and listen to it threatening him with gouya.
"Feed. You. GOUYA." Pi-chan says.
"Yes, good day," Tezuka replies and promptly hangs up.
This conversation may just give him nightmares.
***
"Saa, Tezuka," Fuji says at practice next day.
Tezuka is not in the mood for Fuji. Inui just fed Momoshiro a glass of his newest batch: Inui's super-special-ultra-awesome-spectacular-utterly-mindblowing-majestic-and-shiny Juice Deluxe version 5 point three and two quarters.
Momoshiro seems to be quite dead.
Inui takes notes. "Not quite what I was expecting to happen," he murmurs as he nudges Momoshiro with the tip of his trainer.
"Tezuka?" Fuji prompts, poking him with a sharp finger right between his ribs.
"Aa," Tezuka goes, through clenched teeth.
"Why don't you ask Yuuta? About the cat? Yuuta loves cute animals!"
Tezuka blinks and stares at him. Fuji is making about as much sense as his tennis does.
"We can go ask him as soon as practice is over," Fuji says, smiling. "Ne? It's a date! Eiji, want to play a game?" he hollers and then positively skips off.
Tezuka stares at his retreating back and feels the onset of migraine creeping up on him.
***
They meet Yuuta at the street courts. As if it is not bad enough that Fuji is there… being, well, Fuji, Mizuki is there, too. Yes. Definitely a migraine. All Tezuka can think of is that he wants to be home, tucked up in bed with a novel and Cat curled up in the curve of his neck, purring. Instead he's somewhere near St. Rudolph's. With two Fujis and Mizuki.
And it is raining again.
Mizuki is wearing a purple raincoat.
Tezuka eyes is wearily.
And the umbrella that Yuuta is holding up for him has golden roses on it.
Tezuka eyes that wearily, too.
And when Mizuki puckers his lips and liberally applies pink gloss, Tezuka decides to avoid looking at him altogether, lest the purple canary shrieking GOUYAGOUYAGOUYA from his dreams last night is possibly joined by something even worse.
Which is proving to be hard as the first thing Mizuki does is flounce up to him and announce, "Tezuka-kun. Good to see you," as though they're old chums in a golf club. He tosses his head and his hair does an artful flip in response. "Fuji," he adds. Significantly.
"Hn," Tezuka goes, deciding that some noise of acknowledgement is in order as not to appear completely impolite.
Fuji looks right through Mizuki. "Yuuta!" he says, smiling happily.
"Yo, aniki," Yuuta replies, corner of his mouth tugging up. "Tezuka-san," he adds, politely, inclining his head.
As… unique as Fuji's tennis is, sometimes Tezuka wishes they'd have gotten Yuuta instead. Yuuta, whilst young and reckless, is normal. Mostly. More normal than his brother, at least.
"What did you want to see me for, aniki?" Yuuta asks, stuffing his free hand in the pocket of his windbreaker.
"Tennis, I assume?" Mizuki chuckles as he plays with his hair. "Nfu."
Fuji ignores him. "Do you want a kitten, Yuuta?"
Yuuta blinks. "Uhm. Why?" he ventures.
There, see? Yuuta is normal. The first one not to repeat 'cat' as though he's never heard of such an outrageous concept before. Maybe he can swap club members with Akazawa. Heavens know that St. Rudolph can use stronger players and Tezuka would be able to boast having at least one normal individual on his team. Which might just be worth ditching Fuji for.
"I found an abandoned kitten a few days ago," Tezuka tells him.
"That's terrible," Yuuta says, looking genuinely scandalized that there's still people on the loose who're that heartless.
Tezuka makes a mental memo to call Akazawa as soon as possible.
"So, what do you say?" Fuji prompts, elbowing Tezuka with a smug little quirk sitting around his mouth.
"Yuuta," Mizuki says.
"Er," Yuuta glances sideways at Mizuki and then back at Tezuka. "I suppose I could ask the principal? I think there's this one guy a floor up who's got a bunny."
"Yuuta," Mizuki says.
"Maybe Onee-san could go with you, Yuuta!" Fuji tells him enthusiastically. "Her… physical presence is usually rather convincing."
Yuuta blinks an innocent blink. "Uh, er, I suppose," he says.
"Yuuta," Mizuki says.
"You could have all the kitten's commodities I've obtained so far, too," Tezuka feels obliged to point out.
"Really?" Yuuta says, grinning. "That's great, I-"
"YUUTA!" Mizuki shrieks.
"-I … what, Mizuki-san?" Yuuta turns to him, a faint frown on his features.
Mizuki hold up a finger. The nails seems suspiciously… periwinkle. Tezuka promptly looks at the ground. "First of all, my hair is getting wet." Glancing at the umbrella, Yuuta hastily rightens it, spluttering an apology. "Second of all…" He pauses dramatically. "A cat?"
Yuuta stares at him. "I like cats," he says.
"A. CAT." Mizuki repeats, turning about as purple in his face as his coat is.
"…yes?" Yuuta says lifting a brow.
Mizuki puts the back of his hand to his brow and swoons. "I can't believe you'd be that inconsiderate of me, Yuuta," he sniffs.
Fuji glares at him.
"What-what do you mean?" Yuuta babbles, looking worried.
"HAIR! Yuuta-kun!" Mizuki says mournfully. "Hair. Cat hair. Everywhere. On all my clothes!"
"Uhm," says Yuuta.
"MY CLOTHES. YUUTA-KUN!" Mizuki adds.
"I…I…" Yuuta flounders.
"What are you even doing in my little brother's room?" Fuji asks sweetly.
Mizuki glances nervously at him. Yuuta mumbles something about homework, red in the face. Fuji's eyes, instead of narrowing, go even wider.
Mizuki pouts. "The idea is preposterous. I can't believe you were considering this without even a single thought about the consequences."
It seems that consequences is interchangeable with 'Mizuki's wardrobe'. Tezuka sighs.
"But-" Yuuta mumbles.
"No more!" Mizuki moans, looking away and blinking rapidly. One sob escapes him. "It is clear where your priorities lie. I shall go now. I think I need to lie down in a dark room, I can't… I just- can't…."
A pause.
Mizuki isn't going. He's still standing there, posing as if about to rush away in anguish, not moving.
"Ahem," Mizuki says.
Yuuta looks at him, lost.
"The umbrella, please?" he hisses through his lips.
"Oh!" Yuuta gives it to him.
Mizuki twirls off.
The three of them stand in silence, rain misting down on them. If Yuuta is in the least bit disconcerted about the… oddity of the situation (and Mizuki), he's hiding it well. In fact, he rather looks as though this is something he deals with on a regular basis.
Instead he mops rain off his face with the back of his hand. "I guess that's a no, then." Yuuta says, sounding disappointed. "Sorry, Tezuka-san."
"Aa," Tezuka nods. "It is no trouble."
And there's no way he's letting Cat anywhere near Mizuki.
"Yuuta," Fuji speaks up, voice like liquid honey. "Does Mizuki help you with your homework… a lot?"
"Uhm."
"Does he ask you to do strange things, Yuuta-kun?" Fuji insists. "Or does he touch you? In inappropriate places?"
"ANIKI!" Yuuta shrills, going red in the face.
That's when Tezuka decides it is time to go home. He's reached his quota of being able to deal with sheer madness today and then some. Likely enough to last him for ever.
No more.
***
Cat hasn't had any other accidents besides that one time she peed down his neck. Both Tezuka and she like for her to ride on his shoulder. Cat will nestle under his hair and purr, little claws clutching at his shirt, sometimes accidentally puncturing his skin below. Tezuka doesn't mind much. He rather likes tipping his head to the side and feeling the soft brush if her fur against his skin.
That's where she's sitting when Tezuka decides to tell his parents that he has failed to find a home for her and maybe they could consider keeping her.
"You were still looking?" His father says, frowning vaguely. "She been here for nearly two weeks. Your mother and I have already rather resigned ourselves to her staying here."
Tezuka counts. It hasn't seemed as long to him.
"Of course, sweetheart," his mother says, smiling. "I am actually sort of happy to see you taking to the cat so. I am sure you are different around your friends but here at home you are so serious at times!" she titters. "Even worse than your father."
"Honey," his father mumbles, frowning.
Tezuka frowns, too.
"Just mind that you have to care for her yourself. We'll help you with some necessities, like the litter," his father tells him, giving him a level look. "A shame of your allowance, otherwise, I think."
Tezuka bows his head, heart strangely buoyed. Cat rattles her purr into his ear. "Thank you," he says, softly.
His father flashes a rare smile at him.
"What are you going to name her?" his mother asks him, beaming up at him as though Tezuka has just conquered some vastly important milestone in his life.
"Cat," Tezuka says. It's how he's been thinking of her for a while.
"…just Cat?" his mother repeats, smile falling and looking exasperated.
"There's a certain logic in that," his father adds, sounding nearly amused. He catches Tezuka's eye.
"Well," Tezuka says, smiling not quite back at his father. "She is cat-shaped."
"True that," his father nods sagely.
Tezuka's mother throws her hands into the air. "Oh, the two of you!" she exclaims and stomps off to vent her frustration on the dishes. His father and he share a rare lifting of the corner of their mouths.
Back in his room, Tezuka watches Cat play with the toy mouse Kaidoh bought her. Cat stalks it, intent and serious, even when it has run down and just lies there. Every few minutes Tezuka will reach out and re-wind it and let it shoot off again, making Cat nearly ballistic as she tears after it, all clumsy stick-legs and twitching tail.
She's his. She's staying.
Forever.
There's a knock on his door and his grandfather sticks his head inside. "Sanada's kid will take the cat."
"What?" Tezuka blurts, surprising himself.
A peculiar look crosses his grandfather's features, nearly hidden by the semi-shadows of the hallway. "Genichirou."
Tezuka feels like he did during that match against Atobe. The sensation of throbbing pain and something slipping through his fingers -so close. Nearly unforgivably close. The toy rockets to a halt against the side of his foot. Cat bounds up to it, but instead of attacking she lies down on his foot. Tezuka stares at her, numb.
"Mother and father just said…" he begins, haltingly.
"I heard," his grandfather interrupts him, not unkindly. "But I went out of my way to ask and he said yes. Will you back away now?"
Cat has stopped purring. She's rigid.
Tezuka feels the same.
But what he says is: "Of course not. Thank you for your hard work."
***
It is like he's not really there when he packs Cat's things the next day. The litter tray has been scrubbed clean and Tezuka puts the remainder of the milk replacer, as much cans as he can and the mouse inside. His hands move methodically, stomach churning, while fighting the way his throat constricts.
Cat is sitting on his bed, watching him.
Tezuka can't look at her.
It is for the best. He knows this. Just looking back at the absolute chaos that represent the past two weeks of his life tells him enough. Not to mention the state his bedroom is in. The cans taking up half of it, the molested tennis balls, the brand new racket strings that she's chewed on. When she's adopted Tezuka's life could line up seamlessly with his old routine again, there could be more tennis and more time for studying. He might write in his diary again. He'll have enough sleep again. Everything would be as it is supposed to be.
But what he feels has nothing to do with logic at all.
It hurts to pick her up and tuck her against him, bearing her away. He can't look at his mother frowning at him out of the living room.
This is the right thing to do.
Sanada.
How come he never even actually considered Sanada? How come he thought of someone like Kite, but not Sanada? He interacts far more with Sanada and has known him for years. Sanada, besides perhaps Oishi and Kaidoh, would be the most obvious choice of all.
So why did he never even think of asking him? Perhaps, unconsciously, because some part of him knew that Sanada would say yes.
His grandfather drives him. The litter tray slides around a little on the seat next to him, but Cat is tucked against his chest in the crook of his arm. Tiny, delicate claws are hooked tight into his sweater and her ears are flat. She looks as miserable as the day he found her.
The ride to Sanada is rather long, but it seems much too short to Tezuka. Through the window a green haze of wet, dripping cedar trees flashes by, interspersed with pockets of equally drenched, waving bamboo. Everything is gray and cold and sodden, much like his insides. His eyes ache, he was unable to sleep but for brief, restless snatches. Part of that is due to sitting up against the headboard with Cat napping in the cradle of his arms. So little. Only a baby.
Will she forget about him very fast?
When they pull into the drive of Sanada's house and pass the Koi pond, Tezuka thinks he may just be unable to get out of the car. His whole body seems to freeze, worse than yips, a wave of numbness engulfing him like a cold wave. He's always loved the way Sanada's house looks: traditional and compelling. Serene. Now he'd rather be home, take a small leap into the past and remain stranded back into yesterday evening.
Anticipating their arrival, the front door opens and Sanada's grandfather hobbles out. After a moment, Sanada comes trailing behind.
Whatever it is that he feels, it is not yips. Tezuka takes a deep breath, adjusts his glasses and slides out of the car, shielding Cat from the frosty bite of the wind that rakes the mountains so high up.
Sanada looks like he always does. Tall, broad and forbiddingly serious. The only aspect out of place is the lack of his cap, revealing a glorious cowlick in his hair, sticking up as though inspiring to be an antenna one day.
"Tezuka," he says, giving a stiff jerk of the head in greeting. "Renji mentioned that Inui had told him about your, ah, problem."
My furry little problem.
Tezuka feels his throat close up dangerously. Barely he manages a nod and he's quite unable to muster up so much as a shred of annoyance about Inui's gossiping. He coughs to clear his throat. "I have her litter tray with her things with me," he begins, fighting his own voice into flawless steadiness. "I figured you would have better use for them, now."
"Aa," Sanada agrees. His eyes fall to Tezuka's chest, where Cat clings like a fledgeling bat to the wall of a cave. His face softens.
He swallows. Cat seems fragile between his fingers, ribs like spun glass barely protecting the frantic hammer of her tiny heart, the fur like downy gossamer, ill equipped to protect her from any harm.
It is better like this. Tezuka lifts her away from himself.
Cat digs in her nails and mewls, dragging his clothes away from his body with her, before a small tug disconnects her. Paws spread wide, she grips uselessly at the air, suspended. Her tail is tucked up against her tummy.
Tezuka holds her out to Sanada, eyes averted.
Sanada's large hands lift to receive her, but drop before he actually takes her. "Tezuka," he says. "You don't-"
"I do," Tezuka injects, voice flat and cool. "I cannot keep her. It would be careless."
One of Sanada's brow lifts as he gives Tezuka a Look.
Tezuka is not much of a talker, even about something that lights him afire with passion such as tennis. Nor is he prone to showing his emotions, not for any other reason than that's who he is. But words escape him now, despite himself, in a flat monotone as though he's discussing something as trivial as a grain of sand, and not the creature he is making himself give up.
"I do not have the time, nor place to keep her. My room is full of cat food for which I have no place and because I have to contain her there she chews on everything. The strings of my rackets, the pages of my novels, the wires of my computer. It has been necessary for me to severely disturb my usual routine to feed her and care for. I have barely had the time to continue following my English lessons on the radio, or even make entries in my diary, let alone go to bed at a respectable hour. I am not particularly good at feeding her, my uniforms and clothes are constantly stained. I have done nothing but care for the cat for two weeks, with barely any regard towards my tennis and doing only a mediocre amount of effort for school." He takes a deep breath, head swimming. Cat hangs motionless between his fingers, staring up at him. "Exams and tennis are coming up. I need to be prepared," he finishes.
There.
All of it is absolutely true.
Sanada will understand why it needs to be so. But Sanada just stands there and looks at him, still with that eyebrow lifted. He appears almost amused.
Tezuka feels a curl of frustration, or even more. Is he mocking him?
"There is no reason for me to keep her," Tezuka grits out and thrusts her a little closer towards Sanada still.
Sanada makes no move to accept the cat, but clears his throat instead. "There is," he tells Tezuka.
Tezuka stares at him.
"You do not want to give her away." Sanada says, matter-of-factly. "Tezuka. I estimate one more week and she'll be ready to start on solid food. In a few weeks she'll be almost entirely self-sufficient. After a couple of months she'll roam outside for a considerable amount of time. Cats are like that. Self-sufficient."
"But-"
"Atobe told me that he played you recently," Sanada's voice cuts in like the blade of a sword. The wind scatters a lock of hair across his forehead. His eyes burn like fire. "He told me you were more formidable than ever."
Tezuka shakes his head. "But-"
"Before long the cat will be entirely independent," Sanada goes on steadily, like waves hitting a rocky shore with endless patience. "Not to mention that I highly suspect that this so called mediocre amount of effort towards both school and tennis will be unnoticed by anybody else but yourself."
"And Inui," Tezuka mutters, despite himself.
Sanada's mouth curves slightly. Now he does lift a hand and almost despite himself Tezuka has to suppress the violent urge to snatch Cat out of reach. A hand lands on Tezuka's shoulder, warm. "Just keep the cat, Tezuka." Sanada says. "You don't want to give her to me."
Cat chooses that moment to cry. It's a forlorn, weak whimper that stabs home like a dagger to his heart. Gathering her into a fuzzy ball under his chin makes something thaw inside of him. Cat clutches at him.
"And I don't think the cat wants you to, either." Sanada adds. And then he cracks a rare smile.
It is enough to leave Tezuka less than succinct for a while, disbelieving.
But then slowly he smiles back.
***
"There's a problem," Tezuka says.
Both their grandfathers cease their discussing of whose wrinkles are the most glorious to behold.
"A problem?" Sanada's grandfather says.
"Aa," Sanada says. "Achoo. Achoo." he adds.
Tezuka nods, too. All serious. "It seems Sanada is allergic to Cat."
"You are?" Sanada's grandfather says, sounding perplexed.
"Achoo achoo," Sanada says. Again. "Achoo." One more for good measure.
"Huh." Sanada's grandfather goes, brows lifting. "I don't remember you ever being."
"A terrible shame," Tezuka nods solemnly.
"Sure is. Achoo sniff," Sanada says.
Tezuka's grandfather stares hard at him, eyes keen. "Hm," he rubs his chin, dragging wrinkles in his wake. "Seems like you have no choice but to keep it," he says.
"I shall do what is necessary," Tezuka replies dutifully.
"Achoo," Sanada says.
"Kunimitsu," his grandfather says. "Don't be careless again." His eyes are entirely too knowing, but suddenly kind and slightly amused. He seems to be fighting a smile.
Tezuka looks down at Cat cuddled away in his clothes. "Aa," he agrees. He won't be. It nearly cost him more than he was prepared to give.
And it seems like his grandfather knew this. A test?
A gnarled but strong hand takes his bicep and steers him towards the car. "Let's go home," his grandfather says.
Cat goes with them.
-omake-
A week later Tezuka receives a padded envelope in the mail. His mother brings it up to his room for him, interrupting him as he studies. Cat sits near his feet, gobbling out of her dish. Instead of milk on the floor and on his clothes, it is now gourmet cat food.
There's more inside than just a letter. He cannot recall expecting anything at all. Carefully he cuts it open, mindful not to potentially damage anything inside in case he needs to send it back.
Out falls a collar. A cat collar.
Tezuka nearly recoils in horror.
If Kite and Mizuki hooked up and did unspeakable things together, this might just be the result of it. The collar is a lurid, eye-watering purple, with pink roses stitched across every single millimeter of it. Diamonds sparkling brighter than Fuji's tennis line it at regular intervals. A golden medallion finishes it off. Engraved on the front is 猫.
Tezuka frowns at it, then gingerly reads the accompanying note.
It's from Atobe.
After a beat, Tezuka laughs. Out loud.
His mother yells up, asking whether he is alright and what is that strange noise?
He tells her he's alright.
More than ever.
-fin-