A Granted Wish for vierblith-tefu
Title: Courtship
Godmother: [shooting star]
Wisher: vierblith-tefu
Fairy Tale: The Princess Who Never Smiled
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Tezuka/Fuji
Rating: PG
Warning(s): um. not-so-crack-y crack?
Summary: Even in courtship, Fuji doesn't just rely on dumb luck.
Disclaimer: I do not profit from this work. The Prince of Tennis is owned by Takeshi Konomi.
A/N: Forgive the deviation from the wish, particularly in the setting. :)) I honestly tried, but. Eh. The original was made of fail. Enjoy? :D
Courtship
I.
It takes a while before his family realizes it, and by the time they do, it is too late for them to do anything else but to cope.
once upon a time, there lived a princess who never smiled or laughed.
The first (and only) psychiatrist they take him to tells them that Tezuka has issues. The long version is that he has an anti-social disorder coupled by a superiority complex which stems from his inability to suitably interact in a manner less mature than his peers. Tezuka says nothing, but the furious outburst from his father (“Are you telling me that my son has a stick up his ass?”) is almost enough to make him crack a particularly vengeful smile, if he were anything remotely malicious. His grandfather, as much as he respects the opinion of a medical expert, immediately discards his notion that all psychiatrists are respectable as soon as he hears the much elaborated version Tezuka’s father tells the rest of the household, this version being the one wherein Tezuka appears to be the wounded tragic hero, or the kicked and abandoned puppy on the sidewalk.
Sometimes, Tezuka would like to ask his father if he were adopted, by chance, just to see his reaction.
It is not that Tezuka has no emotions. It is simply because he cannot, for the life of him, find anything or anyone particularly amusing. Of course, his own father is, in a sense, entertaining enough, but the bloom wears off after the first five hundred times his father tells him about ‘that time we put itching powder in the volleyball club’s shorts’.
This is also the reason he avoids the sport like a plague, and finds tennis a more comforting alternative.
her father promised that the person who could make her smile would marry her, but no one was ever able to succeed.
His mother has her share of worries concerning her son. Tezuka would like to tell her that his (lack of) charisma or social skills never really mattered in tennis or in school. If he were to tell the truth, he is grateful that he is an excellent student and a capable leader, because, otherwise, he is not sure if he would be treated with the same somber respect his subordinates and peers offer him.
His only consolation with the alternative is the possibility that there would be less declarations of love to answer. He can only take so much.
II.
And then there is Fuji Syuusuke.
once upon a time, there was a diligent worker who would accept no more than a single coin from his master at the end of every year.
The thing about Fuji is that Tezuka can never really regularly tell what he is thinking. Even Inui and Kikumaru cannot guess as much. It seems all too hopeless to ever get a clear response from him, and yet Tezuka does not mind because for all Fuji’s irregularities and eccentricities, he is a brilliant athlete with little defects.
It is when Fuji steps into the court and serves that Tezuka cannot help but really look. He takes in the way Fuji’s racquet makes a perfect arc in the air, the taut slope of the other boy’s back, and the flash of blue that appears when (and if) he opens his eyes. If there is anything to realize, it is this: he is hopelessly, hopelessly lost.
for two years, he lost his coins in the drinking well. on the third year, he did not lose it, and the two other coins floated up to him. with his money, he decided to see the world. a mouse, a beetle, and a catfish asked him for alms, and he gave them his coins out of the kindness of his heart.
He has been on precisely seventeen outings with Fuji excluding tennis matters, all of which they have never spent alone. In retrospect, perhaps the only times they had ever been alone had been in school or in the courts, and even that is not sufficient enough to even construe their relationship as nothing more than teammates, perhaps even friends.
Which is why he cannot understand the reason why there are even rumors of the supposed existence of a sordid love affair, whatever that is. It is all too bizarre and unexpected that it takes a while before Tezuka realizes that his ears have turned a little red, whether out of embarrassment or indignation he does not care to know or find out.
Unfortunately, the rest of the girls (the same stalkers who inform him of his newfound romance) misinterpret this sign a little. Okay. A lot.
They find him to be a little of a closet romantic, and by the end of the day his reputation has changed as rapidly as. Well. Inui causing a sudden flooding in the infirmary due to his new concoction.
And the only thing that Fuji can even deign to say is, “I suppose I could look forward to a decline in your annual reception of Valentines Day chocolates?”
He glares back.
when he came to the castle, he was so surprised to find the princess looking at him. he fell into the mud, and the animals came to his aid. watching the peculiar spectacle made the princess laugh harder than she imagined she could have.
“Fuji,” Tezuka manages to say without gritting his teeth, “this is ridiculous.”
His companion manages to brighten up a little (in a potentially dangerous way), all the while swinging their clasped hands forward and back. “This is supposed to be bonding.”
“Last time I checked,” butts in Yuuta (who was supposed to be acting as chaperone, if only to salvage whatever dignity Tezuka had left after being conned into going on this little… date. Whatever those girls who paid Fuji had said.), “bonding didn’t include hand holding. Or going to the movies without the rest of your teammates.”
Fuji gives him a withering glare (a rather admirable one, all things considered. Tezuka was of the opinion that Fuji worshipped his brother and couldn’t bear to show him a hint of sibling violence, but this was Fuji, so it was always a possibility.) but doesn’t let go of Tezuka’s hand, even after Yuuta sulks and mutters something about ice princesses and damn tennis geniuses.
It was, he grudgingly admits, kind of nice, and offers Fuji a small, secret smile in the darkness of the movie theatre where he knows no one will be able to see.
III.
It takes a few weeks before the rumors die down, and a few more before Tezuka realizes that maybe he does understand Fuji a little, now that they’ve lived through the whole fake-relationship thing.
Or, at least, Tezuka insists it is fake, considering that Fuji actually paid those rumormongers to spread the word. Fuji, on the other hand, claims it still counts as courtship, but Tezuka is as adamant as always.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t accept second tries.
and they lived happily ever after.
fin
Godmother: [shooting star]
Wisher: vierblith-tefu
Fairy Tale: The Princess Who Never Smiled
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Tezuka/Fuji
Rating: PG
Warning(s): um. not-so-crack-y crack?
Summary: Even in courtship, Fuji doesn't just rely on dumb luck.
Disclaimer: I do not profit from this work. The Prince of Tennis is owned by Takeshi Konomi.
A/N: Forgive the deviation from the wish, particularly in the setting. :)) I honestly tried, but. Eh. The original was made of fail. Enjoy? :D
Courtship
I.
It takes a while before his family realizes it, and by the time they do, it is too late for them to do anything else but to cope.
once upon a time, there lived a princess who never smiled or laughed.
The first (and only) psychiatrist they take him to tells them that Tezuka has issues. The long version is that he has an anti-social disorder coupled by a superiority complex which stems from his inability to suitably interact in a manner less mature than his peers. Tezuka says nothing, but the furious outburst from his father (“Are you telling me that my son has a stick up his ass?”) is almost enough to make him crack a particularly vengeful smile, if he were anything remotely malicious. His grandfather, as much as he respects the opinion of a medical expert, immediately discards his notion that all psychiatrists are respectable as soon as he hears the much elaborated version Tezuka’s father tells the rest of the household, this version being the one wherein Tezuka appears to be the wounded tragic hero, or the kicked and abandoned puppy on the sidewalk.
Sometimes, Tezuka would like to ask his father if he were adopted, by chance, just to see his reaction.
It is not that Tezuka has no emotions. It is simply because he cannot, for the life of him, find anything or anyone particularly amusing. Of course, his own father is, in a sense, entertaining enough, but the bloom wears off after the first five hundred times his father tells him about ‘that time we put itching powder in the volleyball club’s shorts’.
This is also the reason he avoids the sport like a plague, and finds tennis a more comforting alternative.
her father promised that the person who could make her smile would marry her, but no one was ever able to succeed.
His mother has her share of worries concerning her son. Tezuka would like to tell her that his (lack of) charisma or social skills never really mattered in tennis or in school. If he were to tell the truth, he is grateful that he is an excellent student and a capable leader, because, otherwise, he is not sure if he would be treated with the same somber respect his subordinates and peers offer him.
His only consolation with the alternative is the possibility that there would be less declarations of love to answer. He can only take so much.
II.
And then there is Fuji Syuusuke.
once upon a time, there was a diligent worker who would accept no more than a single coin from his master at the end of every year.
The thing about Fuji is that Tezuka can never really regularly tell what he is thinking. Even Inui and Kikumaru cannot guess as much. It seems all too hopeless to ever get a clear response from him, and yet Tezuka does not mind because for all Fuji’s irregularities and eccentricities, he is a brilliant athlete with little defects.
It is when Fuji steps into the court and serves that Tezuka cannot help but really look. He takes in the way Fuji’s racquet makes a perfect arc in the air, the taut slope of the other boy’s back, and the flash of blue that appears when (and if) he opens his eyes. If there is anything to realize, it is this: he is hopelessly, hopelessly lost.
for two years, he lost his coins in the drinking well. on the third year, he did not lose it, and the two other coins floated up to him. with his money, he decided to see the world. a mouse, a beetle, and a catfish asked him for alms, and he gave them his coins out of the kindness of his heart.
He has been on precisely seventeen outings with Fuji excluding tennis matters, all of which they have never spent alone. In retrospect, perhaps the only times they had ever been alone had been in school or in the courts, and even that is not sufficient enough to even construe their relationship as nothing more than teammates, perhaps even friends.
Which is why he cannot understand the reason why there are even rumors of the supposed existence of a sordid love affair, whatever that is. It is all too bizarre and unexpected that it takes a while before Tezuka realizes that his ears have turned a little red, whether out of embarrassment or indignation he does not care to know or find out.
Unfortunately, the rest of the girls (the same stalkers who inform him of his newfound romance) misinterpret this sign a little. Okay. A lot.
They find him to be a little of a closet romantic, and by the end of the day his reputation has changed as rapidly as. Well. Inui causing a sudden flooding in the infirmary due to his new concoction.
And the only thing that Fuji can even deign to say is, “I suppose I could look forward to a decline in your annual reception of Valentines Day chocolates?”
He glares back.
when he came to the castle, he was so surprised to find the princess looking at him. he fell into the mud, and the animals came to his aid. watching the peculiar spectacle made the princess laugh harder than she imagined she could have.
“Fuji,” Tezuka manages to say without gritting his teeth, “this is ridiculous.”
His companion manages to brighten up a little (in a potentially dangerous way), all the while swinging their clasped hands forward and back. “This is supposed to be bonding.”
“Last time I checked,” butts in Yuuta (who was supposed to be acting as chaperone, if only to salvage whatever dignity Tezuka had left after being conned into going on this little… date. Whatever those girls who paid Fuji had said.), “bonding didn’t include hand holding. Or going to the movies without the rest of your teammates.”
Fuji gives him a withering glare (a rather admirable one, all things considered. Tezuka was of the opinion that Fuji worshipped his brother and couldn’t bear to show him a hint of sibling violence, but this was Fuji, so it was always a possibility.) but doesn’t let go of Tezuka’s hand, even after Yuuta sulks and mutters something about ice princesses and damn tennis geniuses.
It was, he grudgingly admits, kind of nice, and offers Fuji a small, secret smile in the darkness of the movie theatre where he knows no one will be able to see.
III.
It takes a few weeks before the rumors die down, and a few more before Tezuka realizes that maybe he does understand Fuji a little, now that they’ve lived through the whole fake-relationship thing.
Or, at least, Tezuka insists it is fake, considering that Fuji actually paid those rumormongers to spread the word. Fuji, on the other hand, claims it still counts as courtship, but Tezuka is as adamant as always.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t accept second tries.
and they lived happily ever after.
fin