Because I love him [TezukaxSaeki; Tennis no Oujisama, #s 23, 24]
title: "Because I love him."
author: yumeyana
themes: # 23 candy; # 24 goodnight
genre: drama, slight angst
rating: pg-13
summary: It was the reason why Tezuka stayed even if it was breaking his heart. It was the reason why Sanada did what he had to do.
Previous Chapters: prologue-07
Author’s Notes: As much as I wouldn’t like to do so, I won’t do much detail on Sanada and Saeki’s relationship. For those who wanted it to be so, I might just do some side stories after everything.
Fic Notes: This chapter’s timeline is set a year after the last. That means, the third years have graduated and are now on their way to college.
Disclaimers: Tennis no Oujisama and all its characters belong to Konomi Takeshi-sensei. Only the plot and the playground are mine.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part III
Chapter eight: “Because I love him.”
“This isn’t working.”
“Huh? What is?”
It sounded so cliché. It was as if it had just come out of the book he had read a couple of months back. It was a scene that didn’t even appear in his most absurd of dreams and/or nightmares. Sanada loved him; he knew that - felt that. A reason why this wouldn’t - couldn’t possibly be happening.
And yet, why had he just heard those words from him?
“Us.”
Saeki turned to him - fear, confusion washing over him both at the same time. Sanada’s eyes were stone hard, something he hadn’t seen in a long time. Why had they lost their gentleness, he wondered. He didn’t know of anything that might have caused it.
The capped man turned his heel.
“Wait!” Saeki cried out, stopping the other’s steps. “You tell me all of a sudden that we’re not working, then you take off without another word? What do you think I am - a psychic? Tell me what the matter is!”
Silence. Sanada’s back remained turned towards him. For the first time since they had been together, his boyfriend - or was it ex-boyfriend now? - seemed too far to reach.
“Ichiroh…”
“Goodbye, Saeki,” came Sanada’s crisp voice.
The silver haired lad could only stare as the most special person in his life walked away as if he didn’t need any more than that…
…or didn’t need any explanation at all.
-------------------------------------------
“You haven’t been complaining about shopping lately, ahn?”
“I’ve never complained, Atobe.” Well, at least not to you.
Tezuka wondered, for the life of him, why the former Hyotei buchou ‘accompanying’ him home. Sure, they were cousins - second or third; he wasn’t really sure - but Atobe never came over before. What was happening?
“Grandmother asked me to give something to Ayana-baasan.”
Russet eyes blinked. “Huh?”
“You must be curious why I’m going to your house. I’m merely supplying you information.”
If there was one person other than Fuji who could make Atobe un-ore-sama, it would be their grandmother. The old lady was the only person in the Atobe mansion who cared - really cared - about the boy. She was the one who literally raised him and was the mother Atobe’s own mother would never be.
“Ah…”
Atobe shrugged, glancing at the quiet streets of Tokyo. He hadn’t planned on walking (ore-sama, walk?!) all the way to the Tezuka house but he had bumped into him while the latter was on the way home from shopping. Yet he really didn’t mind walking at this hour; Tokyo was beautiful at night. Teal orbs caught sight of the playground he had played in once before. Contrary to the usual mirth the place had, the playground was now devoid of kids and the laughter it brought.
He blinked. Wait. Is that…?
“Saeki?”
If Atobe’s prior attempts at a decent conversation failed to get his full attention, Tezuka was sure that the name that slipped from his cousin’s mouth had done the trick. He turned toward the direction Atobe was looking at. Indeed, it was Saeki - sitting alone on the swings. The silver-haired was unconsciously swinging slowly, eyes downcast.
There was something wrong with the picture, he thought.
Sanada was not around.
“Atobe,” he said, turning his attention to his cousin. “Please bring this to mother and tell her I encountered a problem on the way back.” He gave him the bags he was carrying. “I’m sorry to impose this on you but Kojiroh…”
“… needs you, yes I can see. Go now before ore-sama changes his mind and makes you pay for ignoring ore-sama.”
There was a knowing and teasing smirk in Atobe’s lips - something that what told Tezuka that his cousin knew that what he was about to do was way out of character - as he left the other alone. True, yes, that ever since his life had become closely related with Saeki - with the whole Fuji family - he had changed from a person who always kept his emotions to himself to someone who could bear to show his emotions once in a while.
“Kojiroh…?”
Saeki wanted to lift his cerulean eyes and let them tell Tezuka everything that had happened but he couldn’t. It was as if he wasn’t ready to tell anyone… as if he wasn’t ready to face reality. The cold, bitter reality.
The bespectacled man, Saeki was thankful, did not say another word and just sat on the swing beside him. He let a tired sigh escape his lips, knowing that Tezuka would not ask anything until he opened up himself. There were so many things - so much pain in his heart - that he wanted to pour out… if only he could as much as open his mouth.
Tezuka let his feet move, pushing the ground to make the swing move a little. He remembered doing this when he was a child - sitting and swinging alone ‘til he didn’t feel quite lonely anymore. A time when his mother would should up with something in hand and just a bag of candies could ease an aching heart.
Coffee eyes watched his companion. He wished they were still children so that he could give Saeki a big lollipop and make him smile again. But sadly, they weren’t children anymore and whatever was making the silver-haired melancholic could not fade with just a bunch of sweets.
The complexities of growing old…
“This isn’t working.”
He needed this is out of his system. Now. Prolonging it inside him would just make it worse.
Tezuka glanced at his companion, stopping the swing’s movement. “Huh? What is?”
It sounded like a replay of what had happened earlier that day. It was tearing him apart - telling Tezuka this - but he had to tell someone.
“Ichiroh-” God, he still couldn’t call him ‘Sanada’. “-told me that we weren’t working anymore. When-when I asked him why, he didn’t answer me.”
He gulped down hard. His throat was dry. “He just… he just…”
He stopped swinging.
His lips trembled, voice trailing away. He couldn’t - still couldn’t - tell Tezuka how Sanada walked away from him; how Sanada had said, ‘goodbye’. He couldn’t voice it out, lest his tears fall. And he didn’t want to cry. Crying meant he had already accepted that the other man was now out of his life and might not return again.
No. he didn’t want to cry just yet.
“Kojiroh,” came Tezuka’s soft voice. He lifted Saeki’s face to make those cerulean eyes meet his. The silver-haired was surprised - he didn’t hear or feel the other stand from his seat and kneel in front of him.
“It’s alright to cry. Don’t you remember your neesan telling you that?”
He was right, Saeki knew. His neesan did say that.
“Just let it all out. Don’t worry, I’ll be here.”
Sapphire orbs slowly watered and Tezuka soon found the one he loved crying in his arms. He held him closer, wanting to assure Saeki that he wouldn’t walk away - that he would still be here no matter what would happen. He would hold Saeki close even though it was breaking his heart, shattering it to smithereens. He would hold Saeki close even though he knew that it was Sanada who the silver-haired wanted.
He would do anything.
Because…
… he loved Saeki.
------------------------------------------
Ocean-tinted eyes scrutinized every road he passed by. Beside him, Yuuta was doing the same. It was already late - too late - and Saeki and Tezuka still weren’t home. Atobe had called the tensai hours ago that those two were together in the playground. No one knew if they had moved from there or were still there - the reason why the brothers were still keeping their eyes open.
“Aniki, stop! There’s ‘niiisan’s bike!”
Syusuke stopped the car. Yuuta was right. There, parked near the playground Atobe had told him about, was Saeki’s red motorcycle. He tossed the keys to his younger brother, instructing him to lock the car up as he quickly got out of the car.
Relief swept past him when his eyes caught sight of Saeki and Tezuka lounging on the grass. The silver-haired’s head was resting on the other’s lap, Tezuka’s hand running through those soft locks. Chocolate eyes met the tensai’s as Yuuta showed up behind the latter.
“How did you know we were here?” Tezuka asked as the youngest Fuji helped him carry Saeki to the car.
“Keigo told me.”
“Ah…” He had forgotten about his cousin. “Has my mother called?”
“Keigo assured her that you were safe in my house.”
Really now. He suddenly owed Atobe a lot. And he didn’t like owing anything to anybody - friend, parent or cousin. Especially not to this cousin.
Syusuke fished out the mike’s keys from Saeki’s pocket, handing Tezuka the car keys. “Take the car and stay the night. I’ll be taking Kojiroh’s bike.”
The bespectacled boy nodded, slipping into the driver’s seat. Syusuke waited until the car was out of sight before he approached the figure in the shadows. He had seen the figure - knew who it was - the reason why he let Tezuka and the others go home first.
The person was walking away.
“Sanada,” he called out. “Why?”
The other stopped, but only briefly. “Because I love him, Fuji.”
The tensai’s eyes widened, Sanada’s words - spoken and unspoken - taking him by surprise. He could only watch the other walk away, not stopping him from his tracks. He knew he was supposed to get angry, supposed to hate the man - after all, had he not broken Saeki’s heart? - but somehow he understood Sanada’s reason, however vague it seemed like.
Sanada knew Saeki loved him - it was the truth. But Sanada knew something Saeki didn’t and it was the reason why he had to pull down the curtains on them. It was the most painful goodnight kiss anyone had to give.
One not only of good night, but of goodbye as well.
“Because I love him, Fuji.”
.tsu.zu.ku.
author: yumeyana
themes: # 23 candy; # 24 goodnight
genre: drama, slight angst
rating: pg-13
summary: It was the reason why Tezuka stayed even if it was breaking his heart. It was the reason why Sanada did what he had to do.
Previous Chapters: prologue-07
Author’s Notes: As much as I wouldn’t like to do so, I won’t do much detail on Sanada and Saeki’s relationship. For those who wanted it to be so, I might just do some side stories after everything.
Fic Notes: This chapter’s timeline is set a year after the last. That means, the third years have graduated and are now on their way to college.
Disclaimers: Tennis no Oujisama and all its characters belong to Konomi Takeshi-sensei. Only the plot and the playground are mine.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part III
Chapter eight: “Because I love him.”
“This isn’t working.”
“Huh? What is?”
It sounded so cliché. It was as if it had just come out of the book he had read a couple of months back. It was a scene that didn’t even appear in his most absurd of dreams and/or nightmares. Sanada loved him; he knew that - felt that. A reason why this wouldn’t - couldn’t possibly be happening.
And yet, why had he just heard those words from him?
“Us.”
Saeki turned to him - fear, confusion washing over him both at the same time. Sanada’s eyes were stone hard, something he hadn’t seen in a long time. Why had they lost their gentleness, he wondered. He didn’t know of anything that might have caused it.
The capped man turned his heel.
“Wait!” Saeki cried out, stopping the other’s steps. “You tell me all of a sudden that we’re not working, then you take off without another word? What do you think I am - a psychic? Tell me what the matter is!”
Silence. Sanada’s back remained turned towards him. For the first time since they had been together, his boyfriend - or was it ex-boyfriend now? - seemed too far to reach.
“Ichiroh…”
“Goodbye, Saeki,” came Sanada’s crisp voice.
The silver haired lad could only stare as the most special person in his life walked away as if he didn’t need any more than that…
…or didn’t need any explanation at all.
-------------------------------------------
“You haven’t been complaining about shopping lately, ahn?”
“I’ve never complained, Atobe.” Well, at least not to you.
Tezuka wondered, for the life of him, why the former Hyotei buchou ‘accompanying’ him home. Sure, they were cousins - second or third; he wasn’t really sure - but Atobe never came over before. What was happening?
“Grandmother asked me to give something to Ayana-baasan.”
Russet eyes blinked. “Huh?”
“You must be curious why I’m going to your house. I’m merely supplying you information.”
If there was one person other than Fuji who could make Atobe un-ore-sama, it would be their grandmother. The old lady was the only person in the Atobe mansion who cared - really cared - about the boy. She was the one who literally raised him and was the mother Atobe’s own mother would never be.
“Ah…”
Atobe shrugged, glancing at the quiet streets of Tokyo. He hadn’t planned on walking (ore-sama, walk?!) all the way to the Tezuka house but he had bumped into him while the latter was on the way home from shopping. Yet he really didn’t mind walking at this hour; Tokyo was beautiful at night. Teal orbs caught sight of the playground he had played in once before. Contrary to the usual mirth the place had, the playground was now devoid of kids and the laughter it brought.
He blinked. Wait. Is that…?
“Saeki?”
If Atobe’s prior attempts at a decent conversation failed to get his full attention, Tezuka was sure that the name that slipped from his cousin’s mouth had done the trick. He turned toward the direction Atobe was looking at. Indeed, it was Saeki - sitting alone on the swings. The silver-haired was unconsciously swinging slowly, eyes downcast.
There was something wrong with the picture, he thought.
Sanada was not around.
“Atobe,” he said, turning his attention to his cousin. “Please bring this to mother and tell her I encountered a problem on the way back.” He gave him the bags he was carrying. “I’m sorry to impose this on you but Kojiroh…”
“… needs you, yes I can see. Go now before ore-sama changes his mind and makes you pay for ignoring ore-sama.”
There was a knowing and teasing smirk in Atobe’s lips - something that what told Tezuka that his cousin knew that what he was about to do was way out of character - as he left the other alone. True, yes, that ever since his life had become closely related with Saeki - with the whole Fuji family - he had changed from a person who always kept his emotions to himself to someone who could bear to show his emotions once in a while.
“Kojiroh…?”
Saeki wanted to lift his cerulean eyes and let them tell Tezuka everything that had happened but he couldn’t. It was as if he wasn’t ready to tell anyone… as if he wasn’t ready to face reality. The cold, bitter reality.
The bespectacled man, Saeki was thankful, did not say another word and just sat on the swing beside him. He let a tired sigh escape his lips, knowing that Tezuka would not ask anything until he opened up himself. There were so many things - so much pain in his heart - that he wanted to pour out… if only he could as much as open his mouth.
Tezuka let his feet move, pushing the ground to make the swing move a little. He remembered doing this when he was a child - sitting and swinging alone ‘til he didn’t feel quite lonely anymore. A time when his mother would should up with something in hand and just a bag of candies could ease an aching heart.
Coffee eyes watched his companion. He wished they were still children so that he could give Saeki a big lollipop and make him smile again. But sadly, they weren’t children anymore and whatever was making the silver-haired melancholic could not fade with just a bunch of sweets.
The complexities of growing old…
“This isn’t working.”
He needed this is out of his system. Now. Prolonging it inside him would just make it worse.
Tezuka glanced at his companion, stopping the swing’s movement. “Huh? What is?”
It sounded like a replay of what had happened earlier that day. It was tearing him apart - telling Tezuka this - but he had to tell someone.
“Ichiroh-” God, he still couldn’t call him ‘Sanada’. “-told me that we weren’t working anymore. When-when I asked him why, he didn’t answer me.”
He gulped down hard. His throat was dry. “He just… he just…”
He stopped swinging.
His lips trembled, voice trailing away. He couldn’t - still couldn’t - tell Tezuka how Sanada walked away from him; how Sanada had said, ‘goodbye’. He couldn’t voice it out, lest his tears fall. And he didn’t want to cry. Crying meant he had already accepted that the other man was now out of his life and might not return again.
No. he didn’t want to cry just yet.
“Kojiroh,” came Tezuka’s soft voice. He lifted Saeki’s face to make those cerulean eyes meet his. The silver-haired was surprised - he didn’t hear or feel the other stand from his seat and kneel in front of him.
“It’s alright to cry. Don’t you remember your neesan telling you that?”
He was right, Saeki knew. His neesan did say that.
“Just let it all out. Don’t worry, I’ll be here.”
Sapphire orbs slowly watered and Tezuka soon found the one he loved crying in his arms. He held him closer, wanting to assure Saeki that he wouldn’t walk away - that he would still be here no matter what would happen. He would hold Saeki close even though it was breaking his heart, shattering it to smithereens. He would hold Saeki close even though he knew that it was Sanada who the silver-haired wanted.
He would do anything.
Because…
… he loved Saeki.
------------------------------------------
Ocean-tinted eyes scrutinized every road he passed by. Beside him, Yuuta was doing the same. It was already late - too late - and Saeki and Tezuka still weren’t home. Atobe had called the tensai hours ago that those two were together in the playground. No one knew if they had moved from there or were still there - the reason why the brothers were still keeping their eyes open.
“Aniki, stop! There’s ‘niiisan’s bike!”
Syusuke stopped the car. Yuuta was right. There, parked near the playground Atobe had told him about, was Saeki’s red motorcycle. He tossed the keys to his younger brother, instructing him to lock the car up as he quickly got out of the car.
Relief swept past him when his eyes caught sight of Saeki and Tezuka lounging on the grass. The silver-haired’s head was resting on the other’s lap, Tezuka’s hand running through those soft locks. Chocolate eyes met the tensai’s as Yuuta showed up behind the latter.
“How did you know we were here?” Tezuka asked as the youngest Fuji helped him carry Saeki to the car.
“Keigo told me.”
“Ah…” He had forgotten about his cousin. “Has my mother called?”
“Keigo assured her that you were safe in my house.”
Really now. He suddenly owed Atobe a lot. And he didn’t like owing anything to anybody - friend, parent or cousin. Especially not to this cousin.
Syusuke fished out the mike’s keys from Saeki’s pocket, handing Tezuka the car keys. “Take the car and stay the night. I’ll be taking Kojiroh’s bike.”
The bespectacled boy nodded, slipping into the driver’s seat. Syusuke waited until the car was out of sight before he approached the figure in the shadows. He had seen the figure - knew who it was - the reason why he let Tezuka and the others go home first.
The person was walking away.
“Sanada,” he called out. “Why?”
The other stopped, but only briefly. “Because I love him, Fuji.”
The tensai’s eyes widened, Sanada’s words - spoken and unspoken - taking him by surprise. He could only watch the other walk away, not stopping him from his tracks. He knew he was supposed to get angry, supposed to hate the man - after all, had he not broken Saeki’s heart? - but somehow he understood Sanada’s reason, however vague it seemed like.
Sanada knew Saeki loved him - it was the truth. But Sanada knew something Saeki didn’t and it was the reason why he had to pull down the curtains on them. It was the most painful goodnight kiss anyone had to give.
One not only of good night, but of goodbye as well.
“Because I love him, Fuji.”
.tsu.zu.ku.