Prince of Tennis : Home
Type: Fanfic
Title: Home
Pairing/Characters: Oshitari Kenya, Oshitari Yuushi
Series: Prince of Tennis/Tennisu no Oujisama
Rating: PG
Summary: After a long absence from Japan, Yuushi finally returns to Osaka after running himself into a corner.
Author's Notes: Dedicated to sinshroud and plenty thanks to Ai-san who sat through the many many copy pasting while I was writing this XD
It had been a long time.
As he got off the airplane, the feeling of apprehension and fear made him dizzier, making the wave of nausea even stronger than it had been before he boarded the plane back home.
Home. It felt odd, calling a place he hadn't lived in for more than a week or two "Home". In fact, he wasn't very sure if Home was as much the people who made it, or the building itself. And a nagging feeling at the back of his mind told him that he knew the answer but with much practiced ease he brushed it aside. He already had enough things running through his mind at top speed.
Immigration was smooth, a lot smoother than he remembered. Then again, he reminded himself that it had been close to a decade since he last came back. First it was studies that held him in a vice-like grip, and after that it was paying off the tuition. It was hard to tell if he did it on purpose or if it was a purely accidental twist, but he'd managed to carve himself a career. After that, he just couldn't stop working, couldn't pull himself away from the never ending tide of work, the perfect excuse to avoid moving back. "They can't do it without me right now," He'd always say. "I have patients here to care for, and the test programme. I'll return when it's done. I promise."
The test programme, that's what he called it anyway. A new test drug to control cancer, a chance brainwave he had while chatting with a colleage one day during tea. Of course it had ended two years ago, but the guilt kept piling up in his gut and eventually lost the will completely to return back.
Until today at least.
His aunt had fallen sick shortly after he left, and had only gotten worse. He wasn't surprised that she had passed away, but at the fact that she had lasted for so long. But then again, she had a family of the best doctors in the country surrounding her. He only hoped that she didn't suffer too much when she passed away.
And then it happened, the flash of blond hair among the sea of black and he felt his heart skip a beat. Nearer he got, the figure standing there, a flash of colour in the sea of blacks and whites. He felt the other's eyes drilling holes into him, and the closer he got, the stronger the feeling of nausea grew. The tension continued growing with each step he took, and so did the urge to just run; to run back to his own apartment across the ocean and hide. But he was here, and he knew full well that this had been a long time coming.
Dark brown orbs took in the sight of the blond, the once broad shoulders now slumped with the weight on the world upon them. Eyes that once shined like the sun had dulled with a mix of age and pain. Life had been kind to neither of them, that was obvious.
His feet felt like concrete, body moving only on sheer willpower. It took every ounce of discipline he had not to turn tail and flee, to disappear into the crowd. And while in reality it might have only been a few mere minutes, to him it felt like hours, a movie playing in slow motion but eventually, everyone reaches their destination. He swallowed, throat dry as he set his luggage down on the ground beside him, heart pounding in his chest that, as cliched as it might have sounded, he was afraid it might just collapse on him.
"Hey."
"Yea."
Two words exchanged, and nothing more. Neither moved, and for a moment he swore that the both of them had forgotten how to breath. They just stood there, two grown men staring at each other in the middle of one of the busiest airports in the country.
It was killing him even more.
Now that he was here, face to face with what was possibly the one person on this lonely planet that understood him. And finally, it all exploded at one go, the emotions he had been storing away in the box at the back of his mind; all the fear and self-loathing, the stupidity he felt for just disappearing into thin air.
"I ought to punch you. Break that pretty nose of yours."
It was him who broke the silence, pure anger written all over his expression. All he could do was swallow dryly, standing in silence as he took the rage and the anger thrown at him. He didn't need anyone to tell him, he knew with every fibre of his being that he deserved it. And even more he hated himself, his inability to comfort the man in front of him like a knife twisting in his gut.
"I'm sorry."
All of a sudden, the face of anger broke and revealed the emotions beneath. Everything showed, the pain and anger, resentment and fear, the agony and utter despair. "She's gone Yuushi. She left, and I never got to say goodbye." This time, it wasn't his body that felt like it was falling apart. This time, it was his heart. And in that split second everything flooded back to him. That little quiver in Kenya's voice, the unusual glint of wetness in his cousin's eyes. Before he knew it, Yuushi found his arms wrapped tightly around the blond, nuzzling his cousin's ear the same way he used to do to comfort the younger male all those years ago. And he knew. This time, he was back to stay.
He was home.
Credits:
Oshitari Kenya and Oshitari Yuushi are characters from the series Prince of Tennis as created by Konomi Takeshi. In no way do I claim ownership or either characters.
At the same time, plot is mine, fic is mine. Take it and I'll bite your head off.
Title: Home
Pairing/Characters: Oshitari Kenya, Oshitari Yuushi
Series: Prince of Tennis/Tennisu no Oujisama
Rating: PG
Summary: After a long absence from Japan, Yuushi finally returns to Osaka after running himself into a corner.
Author's Notes: Dedicated to sinshroud and plenty thanks to Ai-san who sat through the many many copy pasting while I was writing this XD
It had been a long time.
As he got off the airplane, the feeling of apprehension and fear made him dizzier, making the wave of nausea even stronger than it had been before he boarded the plane back home.
Home. It felt odd, calling a place he hadn't lived in for more than a week or two "Home". In fact, he wasn't very sure if Home was as much the people who made it, or the building itself. And a nagging feeling at the back of his mind told him that he knew the answer but with much practiced ease he brushed it aside. He already had enough things running through his mind at top speed.
Immigration was smooth, a lot smoother than he remembered. Then again, he reminded himself that it had been close to a decade since he last came back. First it was studies that held him in a vice-like grip, and after that it was paying off the tuition. It was hard to tell if he did it on purpose or if it was a purely accidental twist, but he'd managed to carve himself a career. After that, he just couldn't stop working, couldn't pull himself away from the never ending tide of work, the perfect excuse to avoid moving back. "They can't do it without me right now," He'd always say. "I have patients here to care for, and the test programme. I'll return when it's done. I promise."
The test programme, that's what he called it anyway. A new test drug to control cancer, a chance brainwave he had while chatting with a colleage one day during tea. Of course it had ended two years ago, but the guilt kept piling up in his gut and eventually lost the will completely to return back.
Until today at least.
His aunt had fallen sick shortly after he left, and had only gotten worse. He wasn't surprised that she had passed away, but at the fact that she had lasted for so long. But then again, she had a family of the best doctors in the country surrounding her. He only hoped that she didn't suffer too much when she passed away.
And then it happened, the flash of blond hair among the sea of black and he felt his heart skip a beat. Nearer he got, the figure standing there, a flash of colour in the sea of blacks and whites. He felt the other's eyes drilling holes into him, and the closer he got, the stronger the feeling of nausea grew. The tension continued growing with each step he took, and so did the urge to just run; to run back to his own apartment across the ocean and hide. But he was here, and he knew full well that this had been a long time coming.
Dark brown orbs took in the sight of the blond, the once broad shoulders now slumped with the weight on the world upon them. Eyes that once shined like the sun had dulled with a mix of age and pain. Life had been kind to neither of them, that was obvious.
His feet felt like concrete, body moving only on sheer willpower. It took every ounce of discipline he had not to turn tail and flee, to disappear into the crowd. And while in reality it might have only been a few mere minutes, to him it felt like hours, a movie playing in slow motion but eventually, everyone reaches their destination. He swallowed, throat dry as he set his luggage down on the ground beside him, heart pounding in his chest that, as cliched as it might have sounded, he was afraid it might just collapse on him.
"Hey."
"Yea."
Two words exchanged, and nothing more. Neither moved, and for a moment he swore that the both of them had forgotten how to breath. They just stood there, two grown men staring at each other in the middle of one of the busiest airports in the country.
It was killing him even more.
Now that he was here, face to face with what was possibly the one person on this lonely planet that understood him. And finally, it all exploded at one go, the emotions he had been storing away in the box at the back of his mind; all the fear and self-loathing, the stupidity he felt for just disappearing into thin air.
"I ought to punch you. Break that pretty nose of yours."
It was him who broke the silence, pure anger written all over his expression. All he could do was swallow dryly, standing in silence as he took the rage and the anger thrown at him. He didn't need anyone to tell him, he knew with every fibre of his being that he deserved it. And even more he hated himself, his inability to comfort the man in front of him like a knife twisting in his gut.
"I'm sorry."
All of a sudden, the face of anger broke and revealed the emotions beneath. Everything showed, the pain and anger, resentment and fear, the agony and utter despair. "She's gone Yuushi. She left, and I never got to say goodbye." This time, it wasn't his body that felt like it was falling apart. This time, it was his heart. And in that split second everything flooded back to him. That little quiver in Kenya's voice, the unusual glint of wetness in his cousin's eyes. Before he knew it, Yuushi found his arms wrapped tightly around the blond, nuzzling his cousin's ear the same way he used to do to comfort the younger male all those years ago. And he knew. This time, he was back to stay.
He was home.
Credits:
Oshitari Kenya and Oshitari Yuushi are characters from the series Prince of Tennis as created by Konomi Takeshi. In no way do I claim ownership or either characters.
At the same time, plot is mine, fic is mine. Take it and I'll bite your head off.