Log: Atobe, Tezuka

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Date: Sunday, June 1, 7pm
Rating: G
Summary: Tezuka makes good on a promise to show Atobe a great ice-cream place. Atobe displays far more knowledge of astrology and the Chinese zodiac than one should, Tezuka attempts a joke, and then things take a maudlin turn.


The ice cream parlor was where he'd remembered it to be, and Tezuka inwardly relaxed a fraction.  He would have checked the store listings and maps, but they only listed the anchor tenants, and this shop was too small to be an anchor. In fact, if Tezuka hadn't needed to buy something from the convenience store next to it, he wouldn't have noticed the little ice cream shop.

Unfortunately, it was full.

He really should have checked beforehand, but Tezuka hadn't had any opportunities to come through this station before now.  It was smaller than he'd remembered, too, and suddenly he was acutely aware of how the shop must look to the scion of the Atobe empire.

At least the display still looked as mouth-watering as he'd remembered.  Perhaps the shop would allow them to get something to go.

Somehow, it was strange to try to force Tezuka and an ice cream parlor into the same sentence in Atobe's mind - he hardly seemed the type that would duck into a small shop just to get a quick bite. If anything, Atobe half expected Tezuka to be one of those sorts that had no sweet tooth, turned down any and all sugar, and would not eat chocolate because it wasn't manly, or whatever that old (and ridiculous) belief was. The heir had no such holdups when it came to sweets - particularly the baked sort with fresh fruit cooked in, but he was not about to turn down ice cream, either. Of course, Tezuka had somehow also managed to lead them to the most populated ice cream parlor in all of Tokyo - nay, all of Japan.

Hopefully that spoke to the quality of the ice cream.

One thing that was true of everyone in Atobe's family was that they led a life of instant gratification - his father had never been very patient when it came to long lines or crowds and his mother simply took the approach of finding another route or means to accomplish the same goal. By far, Keigo was the most patient member of his family, but it did not stop him from seeking alternate solutions in situations such as these. "It might be best to get something in a cone or cup and take it to go," he commented, folding his arms over his chest and regarding the line. "That was your solution, wasn't it?" Not a bad option, if it was indeed what Tezuka was thinking. "But there's another way."

"Another way?"  Tezuka turned from where he had been estimating the crowd to look at Atobe.  What did Atobe mean, another way?  Before him, some teenagers emerged holding cones.  Well, he now knew the shop served to-go.  There was still something of a line, nevertheless.  Conventional wisdom said something people lined up for was usually worth the wait, but Tezuka had seen lines for the Dunkin' Donuts outlets, and no donuts were worth lining up four hours for.  He waited for a response.

Atobe chuckled lightly and responded, "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, Tezuka-san." He looked back to his companion as though sizing him up - the real purpose of this, of course, was just to determine Tezuka's favorite ice cream flavor and that could be accomplished easily enough, assuming that he chose to order his favorite. The likelihood of that would increase if he were not allowed to go into the shop and peruse the flavors - it would lessen the chance of a impulsive decision. There was also the chance, however, that Tezuka would not default to a favorite, but simply one that was convenient or popped into his mind. Really, Atobe was over-thinking this. "What would you like? I'll take care of the rest."

Tezuka hadn't even thought about what he wanted to order.  He paused, looking at the display case.  It didn't matter to him all that much what he got.  "Have you decided already?" he asked, stalling for time.  The usual chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, green tea... red bean, mochi, sesame... Strawberry Swirl, Chocolate Delight (what was that?), Milk-and-Honey (it sounded a little too sweet for anyone not female or very young)... Imperial Decree (these names were getting stranger and stranger), Heaven's Light--

Heaven's Light?

The sign said, "One bite and you'll immediately ascend to a sweet, fluffy heaven!  Marshmallows and caramel in condensed milk, all blended beautifully with the finest vanilla cream."

Tezuka stared at the sign a moment, and then sighed inside.  He must be getting old; that actually turned his stomach.  What had Grandfather ordered the last time they'd eaten at a restaurant?  It had been black, and not too sweet.  Sesame, and traditionally made, not with milk but rather soy.  It hadn't been bad, either.  He wondered if the shop had it.  They had so many strange and far-too-sweet offerings, surely they also had more traditional things?  But they didn't--as the list of flavors progressed downwards, they got increasingly frightening in the amount of sweetness Tezuka imagined to be in every mouthful.  How did people eat things like that?

"Vanilla," he finally said with a sigh.  That couldn't be «i»too«/i» bad anywhere.

Somehow, Atobe had expected that. No way you could possibly go wrong with good old classic vanilla. He was going to see if they had French Vanilla, himself, so it was not as though he could talk about Tezuka's choice being plain or common. Though, he doubted he was any closer to determining Tezuka's favorite ice cream flavor based upon the hesitation and the wary way Tezuka's eyes scanned over the different ice cream flavors. "Wait here. I won't be long." With those words, Atobe went into the parlor not waiting for Tezuka to either agree to wait or to try to follow him. After all, they could be there for a good half hour if they waited for all the people in line to go before them (what Tezuka would doubtlessly want to do), while Atobe could just as easily drop his name once, leave a nice tip, and have the whole thing over with in less than five minutes. He did not like to do such things in front of friends - he felt no need to flaunt his fortune - but that did not mean he had any moral issue with doing it at all.

And, sure enough, it was within five minutes that Atobe returned with two waffle cones - one with regular vanilla, one with French vanilla. He extended the appropriate cone to Tezuka with a casual smile and suggested, "Let's find somewhere to sit."

Tezuka had assumed Atobe was squeezing in to satisfy himself as to the crowdedness of the restaurant, or to take a better look at the ice creams on offer.  He had watched Atobe speak to the staff, and thought Atobe was asking after the ingredients.  Then the girl had smiled, picked up two cones, and actually served Atobe ahead of the rest of the people waiting.

Frowning, Tezuka took the cone offered to him.  It would have been churlish to refuse it.  He didn't feel comfortable being served before everyone else, though, and certainly he thought some pf the people in line looked much more disgruntled.  "It wouldn't have taken more than fifteen minutes to wait," he said before remembering his manners.  "Thank you for the ice cream."  He'd better think of somewhere to go, now, and then recalled a park outside.  It wasn't far, and the weather was cool for summer.  "There's a park outside."

"Yes, perhaps," Atobe agreed to Tezuka's predictable objection. But, with the rest, he just took a small bite of the ice cream (really quite good) and followed Tezuka's lead out of the station. One thing he did not like about the Japanese train system, he mused, were all of the stairs. Japan seemed to have a real fixation on stairs, he'd realized after spending a great deal of time out of the country. Not that Atobe was out of shape - far from it - but he did not envy those who ran up and down what had to be hundreds of stairs every day just to make their morning and evening commute to and from work or school. Braving the stairs (and not to mention the «i»crowd«/i»), they got out onto the street which, really, was no better than the station itself, just with no stairs and no roof.

The younger mutant did not bother to make small talk as they made their way to the park - making small talk with Tezuka was like trying to hold a tea party with stuffed animals, and it would make more sense to wait until they were seated, anyway. Not to mention, Atobe was not keeping a wary eye on his ice cream, should it begin to melt. It was only a few blocks down and around a corner, none of which he bothered to remember for future reference, and lo and behold there was indeed a small seating area (presumably intended for picnickers). Atobe situated himself on a bench, glancing around once to see if anyone was near-by, though unlike the street the park was relatively empty.

It was a beautiful evening.  The air was cool, and though there were crowds, it was Sunday evening and most of them had dispersed somewhat.  Dinner at home, Tezuka suspected.  He wondered if Atobe had eaten any yet; perhaps he'd offer to find a restaurant later.

Sitting down beside Atobe, Tezuka licked at his cone.  It was very good, and he closed his eyes to savor the taste as it spread across his tongue.  He'd have to remember this place.  His mother liked ice cream, and unlike himself, she still enjoyed sweeter food.  Opening his eyes again, Tezuka looked to see if Atobe was enjoying his own ice cream.  It looked the same, but Atobe didn't seem like the type to enjoy plain vanilla.  "If you don't mind, what flavor is your ice cream?" he asked.

Glancing back at Tezuka, Atobe could not help a small self-satisfied smile. "It's French vanilla," he explained, holding their cones a bit closer together so Tezuka could inspect the two a bit closer. "It's got a bit more of a yellow tint to it than regular vanilla, that's how you can tell the difference - it's also a bit richer." Not that he did not like vanilla, but why go with it when he could have a slightly more flavorful version of the same thing? Of course, like all sweet things, he liked it best when it was covered with sliced strawberries... perhaps on shortcake. That was something he had not tasted in a long time. He could hardly even remember what proper strawberry shortcake was like, other than it being simply delicious.

Dismissing the line of thought, Atobe licked the ice cream, again, and turned his attention out over the park. "It's strange," he commented, tilting his head just a touch. "Someone must like us - we've managed to secure the perfect evening for ice cream in the park."

Oh, of course.  «i»French«/i» vanilla.  From what he'd seen of Atobe, that was typical.  Understated, but definitely different, and wholly unapologetic about it.  "Hn," Tezuka said, looking at the two side-by-side.  Atobe's cone was indeed a little yellower.  Perhaps this was why cream and ivory clothes were preferred to plain white.  He nodded, pulling his cone back to lick it again.  It really was very good ice cream.

Perfect evening?  Tezuka thought about it a moment.  Weather, ice cream, location, and even the company--Atobe wasn't unbearable.  He was pleasant company when he wanted to be, so it seemed.  "Aa," Tezuka said, agreeing.

«i»Don't hurt yourself, now,«/i» Atobe thought to himself, resisting the urge to comment on the monosyllabic nature of Tezuka's responses. At least there had not been any cattiness, yet - maybe the older mutant had finally given up on his pursuit to make sense of Atobe or get rid of Atobe or whatever it was that had him on-edge in the past. Not to say that Atobe could not inject tension into the situation in an instant if he found the right button to push, but it was such a peaceful evening that he really did not want to start another war of the words, today, if it could be avoided. And as a result, he found himself falling back on small talk, ironic as it was. "Work or not, did you have a nice trip?" He did not know the full details, just that he really did think Tezuka was dedicating far too much time to his work.

"It was... fruitful," Tezuka said.  No backsliding, at the least.  It was always difficult getting people to work together, and when egos came into the mix untangling everyone and everything gave Tezuka migraines.  He'd had a few over the past two weeks, and he'd certainly spent a little more on aspirin than he'd thought he would.  But everything was all arranged in the end, and that was what mattered.  "Necessary, certainly.  I believe no more will be required now."

Fruitful. Well, it was better than, "productive," but only marginally. It still sounded to Atobe as though it had been heavy on the work and lean on the relaxation... which was to be expected of a business trip, by nature, but nonetheless... no more business travel might mean that he was actually going to let up a bit on his work schedule, but somehow Atobe also doubted that very much. Not that he even understood why he cared one way or another, really - ultimately, he had no involvement in Tezuka's life and if he worked himself into the ground and went bald from stress at age thirty, that was none of Atobe's business. But it did raise a question that Atobe had simply never bothered to ask, before, and he got the feeling it was not safe to assume when it came to someone with a stern face like Tezuka's.

"This may seem to come out of the blue." Atobe shifted to cross one leg over the other and looked at Tezuka with a serious expression, though it was most likely ruined when he took another lick of his ice cream. "I don't mean to imply anything by it, but how old «i»are«/i» you, exactly?"

The question caused Tezuka to pause, and he looked up from his cone to Atobe.  "Is there a reason for this line of inquiry?" he asked.  It wasn't as if Tezuka minded telling Atobe, but that was indeed an unexpected question.

In turn, Atobe blinked once. "No, not really. I was just thinking I don't actually know how long it will be until you're thirty." Which, he realized moments after saying it, sounded just as out-of-the-blue as the question itself.

The reasoning behind the question was as incomprehensible as the question itself, and Tezuka frowned, looking away.  The ice cream provided a convenient distraction, at any rate.  "Less than five years," he finally said.  Was it really that soon?  Though then again, nothing would change even when he was thirty.  The thought was sobering; the ice cream didn't seem so delicious anymore.

"So then..." Atobe had to count back mentally to arrive at the correct answer, "You're a dog by the Chinese zodiac." Fitting. Scarily fitting, really. Dogs were infamous for being "born old" and getting younger as they physically aged. They were also serious, honest, and loyal... and they liked to help people. Not that Atobe bought into any of that, but the place mats in the Chinese restaurant that had been near the campus of his boarding school taught him all about the nonsense. The reading on the horse - Atobe's year - was also much too accurate for his liking. Horses were proud, knew how to dress, were always the center of attention, good with money and hard working. Horses were known to leave home early in life and were said to be full of conflicting qualities.

"Not that I really buy into any of that rubbish," the younger mutant was all too hasty to add.

Tezuka nodded at the comment about the Chinese zodiac, though he glanced at Atobe first.  He hadn't thought Atobe to be so well-versed in it.  Tezuka couldn't even tell what Atobe's zodiac animal was, though he knew Atobe's age (and thus birthyear).  If pressed, he might be able to name at least half (if not more) of the zodiac's animals, but he doubted he'd be able to name all twelve.  As for knowing what order they came in?  It wasn't anything important, after all, and one usually looked up esoteric information like this.

Tezuka wondered what Atobe's animal was, but held his tongue.  Asking Atobe's would be admitting to being interested and uninformed, and he wasn't sure he wanted Atobe to think he was interested in zodiac animals (though he suspected Atobe's disclaimer might be too much of a protest and could be hiding an interest himself).  He would be able to find out, later.  He'd have to look up the dog when he returned, too.  Instead, Tezuka said, "Of course not.  You merely memorized the order of the zodiac as an exercise."  He licked the ice cream cone to hide the smile that threatened to emerge.

One of Atobe's eyebrows lifted a notch and he let out a soft, "Ah~n?" If he did not know better, he might think that was a «i»joke«/i». In fact, on closer inspection it was almost impossible to mistake it for anything else. "Tezuka-san, I didn't know you had it in you," he said wryly, though he was smiling. Careful not to spark any sort of negative reaction, Atobe pressed on, "When's your birthday?"

Another question?  If he didn't answer this, he suspected Atobe would merely find another way around him and get the information anyway.  Did he want to make Atobe work for the information, or did he feel like sharing?  "Libra," Tezuka said after a moment.  "If we're going by the twelve signs."  He didn't think Atobe needed his birthday, and Atobe probably only wanted more astrological information anyway.  "Yourself?"

"Going by the twelve signs," Atobe echoed, "Libra." Which meant their birthdays were within the same four week span. Curious. Of course, they sounded like a pair of gossiping girls exchanging astrological information like this. Might as well continue to play into whatever horrible train of thought he had kicked off. "I'm also blood type A and right handed, before you ask."

Learning that Atobe was also a Libra was interesting, and Tezuka glanced up.  He didn't think his blood type relevant to this conversation, but now that they shared a horoscope... "October 7.  Left-handed."  Whatever Atobe wanted to do with the information was his business, but it was  only fair to reciprocate.

«i»October seventh?«/i» "Mine's October fourth... we're only a few days apart." He refrained from making the joke on the tip of his tongue about how they were practically twins (just eight years removed). "We could celebrate together." He had to wonder if Tezuka even did anything at all to celebrate his birthday - Sanada certainly didn't; it had taken Atobe dragging him down to the kitchen to have cookies for him to do anything even resembling special for the day. Well... then they had family dinner at Sanada's house also in celebration of his birthday, but Atobe was the only one who had done anything to recognize it on the day itself. Including a gift which Sanada had been so taken with that it had not left his person since his birthday.

At that moment, Atobe felt something cold on his hand and realized he'd been letting his ice cream melt. He unceremoniously licked the back of his own thumb to rescue the melting ice cream and quickly took a couple bites to catch himself back up to the rate he should be eating at to keep from making a mess. He had nearly forgotten about the ice cream entirely.

Tezuka stared at Atobe--he hadn't celebrated a birthday in years.  No, he amended, he hadn't celebrated a birthday with anyone outside of his immediate family (and later, Kinoko) in years.  In fact, he couldn't remember a single time he'd voluntarily done so.  He'd been surprised in university, once, when word of his birthday had leaked in his final year.  It had only firmed his resolve to be wary whenever asked; he never wanted to be plied with chocolate again.  His mother, at least, had found it amusing, and enjoyed the chocolates.  Tezuka suspected his father had partaken, too.  That was beside the point; he hoped Atobe wasn't serious about the birthday celebration.  "I think not," he said.

It wasn't until Tezuka felt something sticky on his hand that he realized he'd been staring at Atobe as the other licked and ate at his ice cream.  Tezuka returned his attention to his own at once, brow furrowing.

"I'll remember it, in any case." Atobe was now far enough into the ice cream that it was mostly just layered cone with a little bit of partially-melted ice cream filling the bottom point of the cone. He was able to finish it off in a few bites, leaving Tezuka in peace to trouble over his own ice cream cone. Once free of the food, he leaned back comfortably against the back of the bench, throwing his arm over the back and looking out across the park. Tokyo was typically busy, but it was still relatively calm around dinner time on a Sunday when everyone wanted to be at home with their families.

Tezuka was close to his family, or so it seemed - his mother and father, in any case, and of course Kinoko. But he still went home to an empty apartment in the evenings, Kinoko aside. It seemed like such a lonely way to live. "Does it ever get lonely?" Atobe tilted his head regarding Tezuka who was still working on his ice cream. "It's Sunday night, after all."

Where had «i»that«/i» question come from?  "No," Tezuka said curtly, stiffening.  His ice cream was half-eaten, but he took a larger bite; at this point there was more cone than ice cream, now.  He wasn't sure what Atobe was trying to say, but how did one ask?  Asking about Atobe might mean admitting he was, and of course Tezuka wasn't lonely.

Even if he was, it was none of Atobe's business.   "Sunday night is when one prepares for Monday morning," Tezuka said instead, giving Atobe a look.

They had slightly different philosophies on the day, Atobe mused to himself. "Sunday night is when one is in deep denial of Monday morning and passes the time bullshitting with a friend or lover or family member, instead." After all, no one looked forward to Monday morning - surely even Tezuka could not possibly actually be «I»excited«/i» for Monday morning... (though, on the other hand, Atobe would not put anything past the man, at this point). But he could tell he hit a nerve, and it wasn't sure whether that meant Tezuka was intentionally lying about it, Tezuka was unintentionally lying about it, or Tezuka really was telling the truth and just did not like being asked. Regardless, it was clearly none of Atobe's business from the tone Tezuka took. "But if you think it's when we should be preparing for Monday morning, I am honored that you seem to think it's best to spend that time with me."

Taken aback, Tezuka looked away, staring at the street silently.  He said, "I've finished my preparations."  He'd done everything earlier this morning, making sure his reports had been updated and filed, and he knew what was on his schedule for Monday (more meetings and updating others on the projects).  When one was organized, it made it much easier to accommodate changes to one's schedule, and Tezuka had certainly arranged his Sunday around Atobe.

Why he'd done so, though... Tezuka didn't know.

Perhaps Atobe was right.  Perhaps Tezuka was lonely.  It would explain why he was sitting here, finishing an ice cream with someone eight years his junior, merely because Atobe was human company.  Kinoko was a wonderful dog, but in the end, she was just a dog.  She didn't speak (though she could emphatize), and she never argued in a way Tezuka could appreciate.  He loved her, but...

Perhaps he should stop spending time with Atobe, Tezuka thought, frowning.  He hadn't felt this sort of discontent before.  Only after meeting Atobe and his inconvenient questions.  He finished his ice cream, wondered what to do about his sticky fingers, and then gave up, licking them as discretely as possible.  He'd find a washroom and clean them properly, later.  Standing up, Tezuka said, "If you've finished, it's getting cold."

«i»Was it something I said...?«/i» Atobe frowned, looking up at Tezuka. It was possible that it actually «i»was«/i» getting cold and that Atobe just had yet to notice since, really, anything but very, very drastic drops in temperature went completely unnoticed. Even then, it just felt comfortable when anyone else would think it was cold. It was the summer months he did not much care for - the hot temperatures made him feel queasy and unsettled. Looking away, again, Atobe waved a hand dismissively. "You go ahead - I think I'll stay a bit longer. It's a nice night; I don't feel like locking myself up at school just yet."

"I see," Tezuka said.  He nodded at Atobe.  "Enjoy the rest of the evening, and good night."   With that, he turned, walking towards the station, internally shaking his head.  He should feel happier about returning to Kinoko, and to his comfortable apartment, but the night felt more chilly than it should have been.  He shivered, feeling empty, and then hated himself for it.  Damn Atobe and his questions, and damn Tezuka for thinking too much of them.

Miffed, but hardly offended, Atobe just watched the other mutant walk away. Whatever it was he said that struck a chord with Tezuka had apparently upset him more than Atobe realized. With a sigh, a shake of his head, and an apologetic smile to the park that had witnessed the exchange, he just filed it away with all the other things had had come to know about Tezuka in the short while they had known one another.