TeniPuri: (FIC) Sandcastles in the Clouds (Tezuka, Fuji) Gen.
Title: Sandcastles in the Clouds.
Rating: Gen.
Word Count: 1,212
Characters: Tezuka-age 8, Fuji-age7
Summary: Anything's less boring than listening to their mothers talk.
Disclaimer: The owners of PoT own PoT
Notes: For evaporate who issued this challenge Tezuka and Fuji, gen, time-slip AU; Tezuka is eight and Fuji is seven. 1,000 words minimum, on a rooftop, and neither of them are allowed to move from where they're sitting .
It's Fuji's idea to come out and sit on his roof when their mothers' discussion starts on the qualities of fabrics. Once she starts to tug out her old sewing bin, Fuji drags Tezuka away to do something far away from their chattering. He suggests it because they've heard these types of conversations before and they are endless.
His mother invites Tezuka's mother over for tea and conversation twice a month. She always brings her son along because, as his mother says to him before they arrive, That poor boy has no children his age in his neighborhood to play with and Won't you be a good boy and be his friend?
Fuji doesn't really like the idea of being a friend to a boy who can't make his own, but Tezuka's not like other boys his age that are too stupid and like to do things that end in concussion or no dessert for a week. His mother tells him he's too smart and precocious for his own good. Fuji smiles when she says that and pretends to go outside to play, and instead reads one of the many books he has stashed in the garden.
Fuji is already halfway out of his bedroom window, pulling himself up when Tezuka's weak protests of safety make it to his ears.
"Fuji-kun," Tezuka says, voice a mix of surprise and disapproval. "Come back inside."
Gripping the ledge, Fuji ducks his head back down, peeking through the window practically upside down, and grins at him. "No, you come up here."
He sits on the roof, not wanting to go back down after taking in the view from that angle, but also because he wonders if Tezuka will possibly come up too.
Tezuka comes up a few seconds later, expression stern, far too old looking on such a young face. He murmurs vaguely that he's only there to make sure that Fuji doesn't get too careless and fall off the roof, but there's a spark of fascination in Tezuka's eyes that tells Fuji otherwise.
Yumiko told him once that he has the gift of being able to see through deception, and that's why he's so capable of it himself. Fuji's not sure if her cards told her that or if it has something to do with those long-distance phone calls she got blamed for a few weeks prior.
Tezuka, however, is the reason they stay there instead of going back inside after a few minutes to play one of Fuji's many seldom used board games. Fuji is already getting antsy, finding the sitting still just as boring as his mother's discussions, but Tezuka has a look on his face that makes Fuji want to ask a lot of questions.
However, Tezuka, Fuji knows, hates being asked things. Whenever Fuji does so, Tezuka's nose scrunches up just so, causing his glasses to jostle on his face until the giggles begin to bubble in Fuji's chest, which cause Tezuka to frown in turn. It's a long, messy process that usually ends with Tezuka not speaking and Fuji apologizing. So, he chooses to squirm instead.
Fuji picks one of the many remnants of tree seeds on his roof and begins to dismantle it. There's a nice breeze out, but it's not cold enough to need to go inside.
"Tezuka-kun," Fuji says then, "let's play a game."
Almost laughing at the curious expression on Tezuka's face, Fuji waits for a response, which he was expecting to be a no, but now he's not so sure.
"A game?" Tezuka asks, wary despite the curiosity. A reprimand about safety on the tip of his tongue, Fuji's sure.
"Yeah," Fuji says with a laugh, "sitting here is boring. We can do that inside."
"We can't play a game out here," Tezuka says after a moment. "It's too dangerous."
Fuji picks up another bit of flora and begins peeling all the green away. "Sure we can. And this game isn't dangerous."
Raising his eyebrows a bit, Tezuka waits for Fuji to finish. Fuji has a mad urge to tell Tezuka that the game includes running sprints and jumping over the chimney simply because he suspects Tezuka will believe him.
"Lay on your back, Tezuka-kun, like this," Fuji says as he demonstrates. Tezuka hesitates a moment before doing the same. He looks up at the sky and points at a particular formation of cloud. "There's a cactus."
Fuji watches Tezuka scan the sky with a small frown on his face. "A cactus?"
Sighing, Fuji leans over closer, and points again at the cactus cloud. "There."
Tezuka waits a few moments, just looking, and Fuji almost asks him if even has an imagination when Tezuka points a few degrees south. "There's a tennis racquet."
Smiling brightly as he lies down again, looking over where Tezuka was just pointing. "Do you like tennis, Tezuka-kun?"
He didn't ask a question for over an hour. That's a record and Fuji feels a bit of pride before the urge to hear the answer makes him turn back to Tezuka.
"Yes," Tezuka answers without any of the usual fuss and frowns. "My mother buys me lessons with a retired player two houses down."
Fuji smiles because Tezuka's never usually chatty. "Is it fun?"
Blinking at the question, Tezuka doesn't answer right away as if the word fun is all but absent from his vocabulary. "Yes."
He wonders if he should ask his mother about playing. Anything's better than doing nothing and the last time he tried getting Yuuta to play with him, he was kicked in the shins and called a big meanie, stupid-head brother.
"Fuji-kun?" Tezuka asks, jostling him out of his memory. "Are we still playing?"
Smiling again, Fuji nods vehemently. "There," Fuji chirps delightfully as he points to the left, "is a bear."
Tezuka looks, cocking his head to the side. "I don't see it."
"It's falling down, see?" Fuji points again.
This time Tezuka nods. "There's a dragon."
Fuji grins and looks to the right. He can see it immediately. This is definitely more fun than setting up one of those games in his room. Yuuta steals the pieces and hides them sometimes anyhow.
Just as Fuji's about to show Tezuka the whale he just saw, they can hear their mothers calling them. "I guess we have to go inside."
Getting back in isn't as easy as it is coming out, but they manage with only one scraped knee between them. Tezuka gets his coat and Fuji almost asks if he can stay over some time so they can go out there at night when there are stars out, but he suspects that Tezuka will say no, so he doesn't.
"Bring your racquet," he says instead, "when you come over next."
"You play?" Tezuka asks curious, suspicious, and happy all at once.
Fuji tilts his head to the side. "Not yet."
With that, Tezuka gives him a strange look before nodding his agreement. Tezuka puts on his jacket and waits dutifully while their mothers exchange goodbyes. Fuji stands next to him, offering him a sweet for the road, despite Tezuka's protest that he's a man, and real men don't like sweet things. He does this because they've heard these types of goodbyes before and they are endless.
AN: They are officially on the roof for 1,000 words, but their mothers wanted them to come inside eventually.
Rating: Gen.
Word Count: 1,212
Characters: Tezuka-age 8, Fuji-age7
Summary: Anything's less boring than listening to their mothers talk.
Disclaimer: The owners of PoT own PoT
Notes: For evaporate who issued this challenge Tezuka and Fuji, gen, time-slip AU; Tezuka is eight and Fuji is seven. 1,000 words minimum, on a rooftop, and neither of them are allowed to move from where they're sitting .
It's Fuji's idea to come out and sit on his roof when their mothers' discussion starts on the qualities of fabrics. Once she starts to tug out her old sewing bin, Fuji drags Tezuka away to do something far away from their chattering. He suggests it because they've heard these types of conversations before and they are endless.
His mother invites Tezuka's mother over for tea and conversation twice a month. She always brings her son along because, as his mother says to him before they arrive, That poor boy has no children his age in his neighborhood to play with and Won't you be a good boy and be his friend?
Fuji doesn't really like the idea of being a friend to a boy who can't make his own, but Tezuka's not like other boys his age that are too stupid and like to do things that end in concussion or no dessert for a week. His mother tells him he's too smart and precocious for his own good. Fuji smiles when she says that and pretends to go outside to play, and instead reads one of the many books he has stashed in the garden.
Fuji is already halfway out of his bedroom window, pulling himself up when Tezuka's weak protests of safety make it to his ears.
"Fuji-kun," Tezuka says, voice a mix of surprise and disapproval. "Come back inside."
Gripping the ledge, Fuji ducks his head back down, peeking through the window practically upside down, and grins at him. "No, you come up here."
He sits on the roof, not wanting to go back down after taking in the view from that angle, but also because he wonders if Tezuka will possibly come up too.
Tezuka comes up a few seconds later, expression stern, far too old looking on such a young face. He murmurs vaguely that he's only there to make sure that Fuji doesn't get too careless and fall off the roof, but there's a spark of fascination in Tezuka's eyes that tells Fuji otherwise.
Yumiko told him once that he has the gift of being able to see through deception, and that's why he's so capable of it himself. Fuji's not sure if her cards told her that or if it has something to do with those long-distance phone calls she got blamed for a few weeks prior.
Tezuka, however, is the reason they stay there instead of going back inside after a few minutes to play one of Fuji's many seldom used board games. Fuji is already getting antsy, finding the sitting still just as boring as his mother's discussions, but Tezuka has a look on his face that makes Fuji want to ask a lot of questions.
However, Tezuka, Fuji knows, hates being asked things. Whenever Fuji does so, Tezuka's nose scrunches up just so, causing his glasses to jostle on his face until the giggles begin to bubble in Fuji's chest, which cause Tezuka to frown in turn. It's a long, messy process that usually ends with Tezuka not speaking and Fuji apologizing. So, he chooses to squirm instead.
Fuji picks one of the many remnants of tree seeds on his roof and begins to dismantle it. There's a nice breeze out, but it's not cold enough to need to go inside.
"Tezuka-kun," Fuji says then, "let's play a game."
Almost laughing at the curious expression on Tezuka's face, Fuji waits for a response, which he was expecting to be a no, but now he's not so sure.
"A game?" Tezuka asks, wary despite the curiosity. A reprimand about safety on the tip of his tongue, Fuji's sure.
"Yeah," Fuji says with a laugh, "sitting here is boring. We can do that inside."
"We can't play a game out here," Tezuka says after a moment. "It's too dangerous."
Fuji picks up another bit of flora and begins peeling all the green away. "Sure we can. And this game isn't dangerous."
Raising his eyebrows a bit, Tezuka waits for Fuji to finish. Fuji has a mad urge to tell Tezuka that the game includes running sprints and jumping over the chimney simply because he suspects Tezuka will believe him.
"Lay on your back, Tezuka-kun, like this," Fuji says as he demonstrates. Tezuka hesitates a moment before doing the same. He looks up at the sky and points at a particular formation of cloud. "There's a cactus."
Fuji watches Tezuka scan the sky with a small frown on his face. "A cactus?"
Sighing, Fuji leans over closer, and points again at the cactus cloud. "There."
Tezuka waits a few moments, just looking, and Fuji almost asks him if even has an imagination when Tezuka points a few degrees south. "There's a tennis racquet."
Smiling brightly as he lies down again, looking over where Tezuka was just pointing. "Do you like tennis, Tezuka-kun?"
He didn't ask a question for over an hour. That's a record and Fuji feels a bit of pride before the urge to hear the answer makes him turn back to Tezuka.
"Yes," Tezuka answers without any of the usual fuss and frowns. "My mother buys me lessons with a retired player two houses down."
Fuji smiles because Tezuka's never usually chatty. "Is it fun?"
Blinking at the question, Tezuka doesn't answer right away as if the word fun is all but absent from his vocabulary. "Yes."
He wonders if he should ask his mother about playing. Anything's better than doing nothing and the last time he tried getting Yuuta to play with him, he was kicked in the shins and called a big meanie, stupid-head brother.
"Fuji-kun?" Tezuka asks, jostling him out of his memory. "Are we still playing?"
Smiling again, Fuji nods vehemently. "There," Fuji chirps delightfully as he points to the left, "is a bear."
Tezuka looks, cocking his head to the side. "I don't see it."
"It's falling down, see?" Fuji points again.
This time Tezuka nods. "There's a dragon."
Fuji grins and looks to the right. He can see it immediately. This is definitely more fun than setting up one of those games in his room. Yuuta steals the pieces and hides them sometimes anyhow.
Just as Fuji's about to show Tezuka the whale he just saw, they can hear their mothers calling them. "I guess we have to go inside."
Getting back in isn't as easy as it is coming out, but they manage with only one scraped knee between them. Tezuka gets his coat and Fuji almost asks if he can stay over some time so they can go out there at night when there are stars out, but he suspects that Tezuka will say no, so he doesn't.
"Bring your racquet," he says instead, "when you come over next."
"You play?" Tezuka asks curious, suspicious, and happy all at once.
Fuji tilts his head to the side. "Not yet."
With that, Tezuka gives him a strange look before nodding his agreement. Tezuka puts on his jacket and waits dutifully while their mothers exchange goodbyes. Fuji stands next to him, offering him a sweet for the road, despite Tezuka's protest that he's a man, and real men don't like sweet things. He does this because they've heard these types of goodbyes before and they are endless.
AN: They are officially on the roof for 1,000 words, but their mothers wanted them to come inside eventually.