fic - Line
Title: Line
Pairing: TezukaFuji
Rating: G
Warning: angst, OC (sorry...)
Disclaimer: They own each other.
A/N: This takes place around a month before To Make an Attempt. The plot bunny is too hyperactive I can’t possibly ignore it. And I should be studying for my last two exams of the semester. Oh, well! Comments will be loved!
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go. - T. S. Eliot
Tezuka did not stare, quite simply because it was rude. Instead, he let his head bow down, acknowledging the woman at Fuji’s door.
“Tezuka?” The woman’s soft black eyes widened. “The Tezuka Kunimitsu.”
The calm façade remained untarnished. Tezuka nodded. “Ahh.”
“Hang on,” the woman said excitedly, almost bouncing up and down with glee. “I’ll get Syusuke.”
Tezuka, however, shook his head. He looked over the woman’s shoulder and pressed his lips. “No need.”
The woman spun around, her sleek black hair gently swaying. Fuji stood behind her and gave her a polite smile. Then, she tugged at Fuji’s arm, grinning. “You never told me that you’re friends with Tezuka Kunimitsu.”
If Fuji were surprised, he dared not show it to the woman. But he looked up at Tezuka, his eyes opening briefly - almost questioningly. “This is - “
“My plane left early,” Tezuka said, fixing a long gaze at Fuji. If he had been avoiding eye contact with the woman, only Fuji could be sure. “I dropped by to give this to you.” He held out a black box that was neatly and simply tied with a silver ribbon.
“Oh, can’t you stay?” asked the woman eagerly. “Can’t you dine with us?”
The tension wasn’t evident. In fact, no one could have seen it. But Fuji knew that Tezuka’s grip on his racket usually tightened when Tezuka was nervous. At the moment, Tezuka’s hand was pressed heavily on the box.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Tezuka said politely. “I have to go.”
“That’s too bad. Maybe next time?” asked the woman, filling in the silence that hung precariously in the air.
Tezuka did not lie, quite simply because he was taught not to; thus, he answered, “I’ll have to see.” He gave a curt nod to Fuji and the woman. Then, he set off down the street.
“How come you never told me you’re friends with him?” the woman inquired cheerfully as she shut the door behind her. “Wow, the Tezuka Kunimitsu…”
Idly tracing lines on the box, Fuji smiled patiently. “Dinner is ready, Tsubaki.”
oOo
The sofa creaked softly as Fuji dropped to take a seat. Fuji took a deep breath and released a heavy sigh, casting his attention on the black box that lay on the coffee table. He reached out, taking the parcel to his lap, and untied the ribbon. He couldn’t stop himself from biting his lower lip when he saw what was inside. He shook his head and shut his eyes nearly in pain. An antique silver photo frame that he really wanted was inside the box. Tezuka had offered to buy it for him when Fuji had visited Germany, but Fuji had refused. The frame was costly, Fuji had argued. He told Tezuka that he would buy it himself the next time he visited Germany. In truth, however, he wanted nothing that would attach him even more to Tezuka.
He pursed his lips tightly and recalled the slight frown in Tezuka’s face at the sight of Tsubaki. Tezuka knew about Tsubaki. Fuji told Tezuka stories of how amusing Tsubaki was, of how comfortable she was to work with, of how light-hearted she was. But Fuji would’ve preferred that Tezuka and Tsubaki had not met; the encounter meant hurting someone, deliberate or no.
Fuji grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jeans and dialed Tezuka’s number.
“Fuji,” Tezuka said, his voice was as deep and calm as usual.
“Thanks,” Fuji went. He leaned his head against the sofa. “How was your trip?”
“Fine,” Tezuka replied briefly.
This is when Fuji opened his eyes and frowned. Normally, Tezuka would have told a detailed story, if only to assure Fuji that he had a safe trip. But now Tezuka was being more succinct than usual and Fuji could tell why. But he was not going to give an apology and Tezuka was not going to accept one. They both knew where the line was and they had long ago chosen to confine themselves behind it.
“Tezuka, would you want some unacha?” Fuji asked quietly for though Fuji was willing to stay behind the line, he was not blind not to see the struggle on Tezuka’s side.
Tezuka did not reply.
“You do want some, don’t you?” Fuji asked, teasing. “I’ll call the others.”
Fuji did not wait for Tezuka’s answer. He hung up and unconsciously raked a hand through his hair. This was one of those times when he was most agonizingly aware of where the line was.
oOo
Fuji allowed a smile to linger in his lips as he entered the restaurant. Their friends were only too willing to oblige to Fuji’s request. Oishi said that a reunion would be good and Eiji agreed zealously, promising to call Kawamura. Momoshiro added that they were lucky since Echizen was in Japan as well. Inui was also interested in seeing Tezuka after such a long time and said that he would drag Kaidoh along with him.
As Eiji and Momo were hogging the sushi, Tezuka sat stock still at the corner of the table, watching in part silence and, Fuji could tell, in part amusement. Tezuka must have heard the door creak or must have felt the cold breeze for he lifted his head in time to meet Fuji’s gaze. Fuji smiled in turn, albeit wistfully.
“Fujiko!” exclaimed Eiji as Fuji joined the table.
Fuji took the empty cushion beside Tezuka and grinned at Eiji. “You’ve ordered already?” He asked cheerfully. “I’m not treating all of you… I’ll just pay for Tezuka’s unacha.” He threw a sidelong glance at Tezuka and smirked. “I think he missed it.”
Momoshiro nearly choked on the sushi in his mouth. “That’s not fair! You invited us here and - “
Laughing, Fuji waved his hand. “Order whatever you want, I’ll pay.”
“Greato!” yelled Kawamura.
“You’re not eating, Fuji,” Inui noted observantly as the rest tucked in delightedly.
“I’ve already had dinner,” Fuji explained quickly. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Tezuka’s jaw clench. He had to press his palm against his knees to avoid touching Tezuka.
“Mada mada dane,” smirked Echizen, grinning impishly at Momoshiro after taking the last piece of sushi.
“You brat - “
“Fushuu. Quiet!” Kaidoh said darkly, glaring at Momoshiro.
As if to cut off the beginning of an argument, Oishi turned to Tezuka, “How have you been?”
“Fine,” Tezuka said curtly.
From then on, the air was filled with talk of tennis amidst bowls of ramen and cups of tea. Fuji leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. He listened as Tezuka spoke about the sport that made Tezuka genuinely happy.
“Such a busy life,” Momoshiro remarked. “Why don’t you get a girl - Ouch!” Momoshiro frowned at Kaidoh. Then, he threw his eyes to Fuji, almost looking sorry.
Fuji only smiled reassuringly. But his fingers dug deeper on his knees for at the corners of his eyes, he caught the twitch in Tezuka’s jaws, the quirk in Tezuka’s brows, the sadness in Tezuka’s eyes.
The meal had been enjoyable - both Eiji and Oishi gave Fuji the reassurance - and it helped that it was free, Momoshiro couldn’t help but add.
“It is always fun to eat with friends, isn’t it?” Fuji asked. The question was directed to no one in particular. But Fuji turned his head slightly to Tezuka, meaning Tezuka to answer.
“Ahh,” Tezuka said tartly. “But it’s late. We all need to go home.”
“That’s right!” Oishi seconded. “Tezuka must be tired, he just arrived after all.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Fuji stated.
“That won’t be necessary,” Tezuka replied quickly.
Tezuka was walking behind the others when Fuji pressed, “Tezuka.”
“I know my way around Tokyo, Fuji. I live here.”
“Tezuka.” Fuji’s eyes flew open dangerously. But they softened when he met Tezuka’s dull, amber eyes. “Please,” he said quietly. “Don’t be stubborn.” He almost pleaded for he knew Tezuka very well and for though Tezuka defied Laws of Physics, Tezuka couldn’t overcome the Laws of Pain and Hurting.
Tezuka looked away, submitting. He walked straight ahead, pushing his hands into his pockets.
The soles of his shoes tapping against the ground, Fuji trudged quietly behind Tezuka. He saw the line, felt it between them but was most tempted to cross it if only to reach and touch Tezuka. But he couldn’t even step on the line, to apologize. It meant doing something against his wrongs, entertaining something that they had been avoiding in the first place - to try.
Tezuka walked further on and Fuji could feel the acid at the pits of his gut. No, he did not want Tezuka to struggle behind the line. Should he push Tezuka back? Should he give Tezuka a tug?
“Tezuka,” Fuji called. He took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Tezuka halted in his steps and looked down on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” Fuji said again. He was on the line. All he had to do was wait for Tezuka to step on it too.
-End-
A/N: I really should be studying. WHUTONEARTHISTHEPITDOINGTOMYFIC????
Pairing: TezukaFuji
Rating: G
Warning: angst, OC (sorry...)
Disclaimer: They own each other.
A/N: This takes place around a month before To Make an Attempt. The plot bunny is too hyperactive I can’t possibly ignore it. And I should be studying for my last two exams of the semester. Oh, well! Comments will be loved!
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go. - T. S. Eliot
Tezuka did not stare, quite simply because it was rude. Instead, he let his head bow down, acknowledging the woman at Fuji’s door.
“Tezuka?” The woman’s soft black eyes widened. “The Tezuka Kunimitsu.”
The calm façade remained untarnished. Tezuka nodded. “Ahh.”
“Hang on,” the woman said excitedly, almost bouncing up and down with glee. “I’ll get Syusuke.”
Tezuka, however, shook his head. He looked over the woman’s shoulder and pressed his lips. “No need.”
The woman spun around, her sleek black hair gently swaying. Fuji stood behind her and gave her a polite smile. Then, she tugged at Fuji’s arm, grinning. “You never told me that you’re friends with Tezuka Kunimitsu.”
If Fuji were surprised, he dared not show it to the woman. But he looked up at Tezuka, his eyes opening briefly - almost questioningly. “This is - “
“My plane left early,” Tezuka said, fixing a long gaze at Fuji. If he had been avoiding eye contact with the woman, only Fuji could be sure. “I dropped by to give this to you.” He held out a black box that was neatly and simply tied with a silver ribbon.
“Oh, can’t you stay?” asked the woman eagerly. “Can’t you dine with us?”
The tension wasn’t evident. In fact, no one could have seen it. But Fuji knew that Tezuka’s grip on his racket usually tightened when Tezuka was nervous. At the moment, Tezuka’s hand was pressed heavily on the box.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Tezuka said politely. “I have to go.”
“That’s too bad. Maybe next time?” asked the woman, filling in the silence that hung precariously in the air.
Tezuka did not lie, quite simply because he was taught not to; thus, he answered, “I’ll have to see.” He gave a curt nod to Fuji and the woman. Then, he set off down the street.
“How come you never told me you’re friends with him?” the woman inquired cheerfully as she shut the door behind her. “Wow, the Tezuka Kunimitsu…”
Idly tracing lines on the box, Fuji smiled patiently. “Dinner is ready, Tsubaki.”
oOo
The sofa creaked softly as Fuji dropped to take a seat. Fuji took a deep breath and released a heavy sigh, casting his attention on the black box that lay on the coffee table. He reached out, taking the parcel to his lap, and untied the ribbon. He couldn’t stop himself from biting his lower lip when he saw what was inside. He shook his head and shut his eyes nearly in pain. An antique silver photo frame that he really wanted was inside the box. Tezuka had offered to buy it for him when Fuji had visited Germany, but Fuji had refused. The frame was costly, Fuji had argued. He told Tezuka that he would buy it himself the next time he visited Germany. In truth, however, he wanted nothing that would attach him even more to Tezuka.
He pursed his lips tightly and recalled the slight frown in Tezuka’s face at the sight of Tsubaki. Tezuka knew about Tsubaki. Fuji told Tezuka stories of how amusing Tsubaki was, of how comfortable she was to work with, of how light-hearted she was. But Fuji would’ve preferred that Tezuka and Tsubaki had not met; the encounter meant hurting someone, deliberate or no.
Fuji grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jeans and dialed Tezuka’s number.
“Fuji,” Tezuka said, his voice was as deep and calm as usual.
“Thanks,” Fuji went. He leaned his head against the sofa. “How was your trip?”
“Fine,” Tezuka replied briefly.
This is when Fuji opened his eyes and frowned. Normally, Tezuka would have told a detailed story, if only to assure Fuji that he had a safe trip. But now Tezuka was being more succinct than usual and Fuji could tell why. But he was not going to give an apology and Tezuka was not going to accept one. They both knew where the line was and they had long ago chosen to confine themselves behind it.
“Tezuka, would you want some unacha?” Fuji asked quietly for though Fuji was willing to stay behind the line, he was not blind not to see the struggle on Tezuka’s side.
Tezuka did not reply.
“You do want some, don’t you?” Fuji asked, teasing. “I’ll call the others.”
Fuji did not wait for Tezuka’s answer. He hung up and unconsciously raked a hand through his hair. This was one of those times when he was most agonizingly aware of where the line was.
oOo
Fuji allowed a smile to linger in his lips as he entered the restaurant. Their friends were only too willing to oblige to Fuji’s request. Oishi said that a reunion would be good and Eiji agreed zealously, promising to call Kawamura. Momoshiro added that they were lucky since Echizen was in Japan as well. Inui was also interested in seeing Tezuka after such a long time and said that he would drag Kaidoh along with him.
As Eiji and Momo were hogging the sushi, Tezuka sat stock still at the corner of the table, watching in part silence and, Fuji could tell, in part amusement. Tezuka must have heard the door creak or must have felt the cold breeze for he lifted his head in time to meet Fuji’s gaze. Fuji smiled in turn, albeit wistfully.
“Fujiko!” exclaimed Eiji as Fuji joined the table.
Fuji took the empty cushion beside Tezuka and grinned at Eiji. “You’ve ordered already?” He asked cheerfully. “I’m not treating all of you… I’ll just pay for Tezuka’s unacha.” He threw a sidelong glance at Tezuka and smirked. “I think he missed it.”
Momoshiro nearly choked on the sushi in his mouth. “That’s not fair! You invited us here and - “
Laughing, Fuji waved his hand. “Order whatever you want, I’ll pay.”
“Greato!” yelled Kawamura.
“You’re not eating, Fuji,” Inui noted observantly as the rest tucked in delightedly.
“I’ve already had dinner,” Fuji explained quickly. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Tezuka’s jaw clench. He had to press his palm against his knees to avoid touching Tezuka.
“Mada mada dane,” smirked Echizen, grinning impishly at Momoshiro after taking the last piece of sushi.
“You brat - “
“Fushuu. Quiet!” Kaidoh said darkly, glaring at Momoshiro.
As if to cut off the beginning of an argument, Oishi turned to Tezuka, “How have you been?”
“Fine,” Tezuka said curtly.
From then on, the air was filled with talk of tennis amidst bowls of ramen and cups of tea. Fuji leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. He listened as Tezuka spoke about the sport that made Tezuka genuinely happy.
“Such a busy life,” Momoshiro remarked. “Why don’t you get a girl - Ouch!” Momoshiro frowned at Kaidoh. Then, he threw his eyes to Fuji, almost looking sorry.
Fuji only smiled reassuringly. But his fingers dug deeper on his knees for at the corners of his eyes, he caught the twitch in Tezuka’s jaws, the quirk in Tezuka’s brows, the sadness in Tezuka’s eyes.
The meal had been enjoyable - both Eiji and Oishi gave Fuji the reassurance - and it helped that it was free, Momoshiro couldn’t help but add.
“It is always fun to eat with friends, isn’t it?” Fuji asked. The question was directed to no one in particular. But Fuji turned his head slightly to Tezuka, meaning Tezuka to answer.
“Ahh,” Tezuka said tartly. “But it’s late. We all need to go home.”
“That’s right!” Oishi seconded. “Tezuka must be tired, he just arrived after all.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Fuji stated.
“That won’t be necessary,” Tezuka replied quickly.
Tezuka was walking behind the others when Fuji pressed, “Tezuka.”
“I know my way around Tokyo, Fuji. I live here.”
“Tezuka.” Fuji’s eyes flew open dangerously. But they softened when he met Tezuka’s dull, amber eyes. “Please,” he said quietly. “Don’t be stubborn.” He almost pleaded for he knew Tezuka very well and for though Tezuka defied Laws of Physics, Tezuka couldn’t overcome the Laws of Pain and Hurting.
Tezuka looked away, submitting. He walked straight ahead, pushing his hands into his pockets.
The soles of his shoes tapping against the ground, Fuji trudged quietly behind Tezuka. He saw the line, felt it between them but was most tempted to cross it if only to reach and touch Tezuka. But he couldn’t even step on the line, to apologize. It meant doing something against his wrongs, entertaining something that they had been avoiding in the first place - to try.
Tezuka walked further on and Fuji could feel the acid at the pits of his gut. No, he did not want Tezuka to struggle behind the line. Should he push Tezuka back? Should he give Tezuka a tug?
“Tezuka,” Fuji called. He took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Tezuka halted in his steps and looked down on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” Fuji said again. He was on the line. All he had to do was wait for Tezuka to step on it too.
-End-
A/N: I really should be studying. WHUTONEARTHISTHEPITDOINGTOMYFIC????