[FIC] White, TezuFu (for a1y_puff)

Apr 14, 2008 18:48


I know I failed. Utterly. And it's a week!

a1y_puff , I hope you can forgive me. I was unable to get to a computer for a week. T_T I hope this fic makes up for my failure. This is my (belated) birthday gift to you!

Also, a HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BELOVED CO-PSYCHO
frezeus -sama!!! Love ya girl!!!

Title: White
Author: Neerod
Ship: TezuFuji, sorta TezuRyo (I guess)
Rating: K+
Genre: Angst, AU
Summary: AUish. For
a1y_puff’s birthday. Fuji has a few things to say, before Tezuka leaves for the pros.

Notes: Tezuka here taught Fuji and Echizen tennis, get it? Okay. Enjoy.

“Tezuka.”

The said person stopped in his tracks and turned.

The wind blew, whispering in their ears, tugging gently at their clothes, ruffling their hair. Tezuka adjusted the bag on his shoulder, righted the trolley that he’d been lugging. “Yes, Fuji?”

Fuji smiled, as always. No one could guess he was sad, but because Tezuka knew him well, he knew Fuji objected to what he was about to do. “Can you spare a moment, Tezuka?”

“Of course, Fuji.” Tezuka lowered the bag from his shoulder. “What do you want to talk about?”

Fuji glanced up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun, then looked at him. “Good luck, Tezuka.”

“Thank you.”

Fuji continued smiling. Tezuka glanced at his watch, thinking that Echizen wouldn’t be at the airport yet. If Fuji wanted to smile, Tezuka certainly had a few minutes to spare.

A few moments passed with neither of them speaking.

Tezuka glanced at his watch again. At this rate, if Fuji didn’t talk, Echizen would beat him to the airport. “Fuji, do you have anything else to say?”

“I guess not,” Fuji said airily.

Tezuka nodded, slung the bag one more over his shoulder, and began to turn away. “Hn. Then I must be going now.”

He had taken ten steps away when Fuji said suddenly, “You’ve taught Echizen really well, haven’t you? For him to get to accompany you to this tournament…it’s amazing.”

Tezuka stopped. He pushed up his glasses and turned. Fuji was as weird as ever, randomly saying things as if they had been the previous topic discussed. He figured Fuji must have been trying to stall him so that the plane would leave without him. If that was the case, he’d best put a stop to the conversation. Echizen would be waiting.

“I taught you too, Fuji,” he said. “But you didn’t pursue a career in tennis, unlike Echizen. I’m rather sad that you can’t come along.”

“Me too.”

Fuji had kept his hands hidden behind him all the while. Now he freed them, revealing a racket.

Tezuka’s eyes widened.

That racket…

It had a black handle and a white frame which was chipped and worn with age.

I gave that racket to Fuji Syuusuke, years ago, when I first met him.

-0-

“Are you going to be my playmate today?”

Tezuka looked at the brown-haired boy standing and smiling innocently before him. “Do you have a racket?”

“I don’t. What’s that, anyway?”

The wind blew softly, scattering fallen leaves, a few of which skidded to a rest beside Tezuka’s shoes. They were alone in the playground.

“Here,” Tezuka said, and handed the kid a spare racket.

“What’s this for?”

“If you want to be my playmate, you must know how to play tennis.” Tezuka explained.

“Tennis?” The kid peered at him. “Ah! That weird sport Nee-chan watches on TV. Ah.”

“It’s not weird!” Tezuka said defensively. How dare he?

“Hm.” The kid tapped the frame of the racket’s head, pursing his lips together, as if he were deciding whether to use it as a bludgeon or not. “Then…teach me.”

“Huh?” Tezuka blinked. “Teach you?”

“Yeah!” The kid grinned, seeming truly happy at that. Tezuka thought it was too excessive. “I’m Fuji Syuusuke! And you?” He seized Tezuka’s hand and shook it before Tezuka could even introduce himself.

“I’m Tezuka. Tezuka Kunimitsu.” Tezuka yanked his hand away.

“Then, Tezuka-kun, will you teach me how to play tennis?”

“…Yeah.”

-0-

“Brings back memories, eh?” Fuji, who now stood before Tezuka, all grown up and more knowledgeable in tennis, teased. “You taught me tennis.”

“I did,” Tezuka answered. “You were a good student.”

“How good was I, Tezuka?”

Tezuka pushed up his glasses. Not to be immodest, but he was the standard by which he measured others. Since he always played at his best, he considered anyone else good as long as they were able to beat him or, at least, drive him to his limits. “Very good,” he admitted.

“Thank you for the compliment!” Fuji said cheerfully. “Maa, Tezuka, do tell me if you really need to leave, okay? I hate to be the reason why you were late for the flight.”

Tezuka nodded. He wondered why Fuji was suddenly so nostalgic. Perhaps because Tezuka was on his way to fulfilling his dreams of becoming a pro? Fuji had been by his side during the most trying times of his life. Fuji had witnessed him improve, win, lose.

“You showed me,” Fuji said softly, while caressing the worn frame of the racket, “that I could be the best, too. You taught me I could be a serious player and still enjoy the game.”

Tezuka noticed that Fuji had fully opened his eyes, and that those eyes were suddenly cloudy pools of sadness, rippling with the threat of tears.

“Fuji…” he began, and stepped towards him, but Fuji held out his palm, motioning him to stop.

“Please, Tezuka, don’t come near,” he said.

Tezuka stopped. “Fuji, you…what is it? What troubles you?”

“I recall,” Fuji said, “that Echizen came to us one sunny April day, while we were practicing in the street courts.”

At the mention of Echizen’s name, Tezuka glanced at his watch a third time. He really was going to be late if Fuji kept talking this way and making him remember events in the past. He sighed inwardly. Better be late.

“I asked you that day,” Fuji continued, once again looking at the racket and caressing it, “if you’d let me play beside you, forever.”

Tezuka’s eyes widened.

“You never answered me.”

-0-

They were in their third year of middle high school then, consistent regulars in the Seigaku tennis squad. From the looks of it, Fuji was going to be a very great player-if only he put some seriousness into his game and, for once, think about winning for the sake of winning. Still, Tezuka, who was captain, was proud of him.

Their casual friendship had evolved into something else. They were rarely seen without the other. Oishi, the club’s vice-captain, remarked about it many times, asking if Tezuka was really Fuji’s best friend, because Kikumaru felt otherwise.

“Will you let me play beside you forever, Tezuka?”

Tezuka looked at Fuji across the net. Fuji was gripping his racket tightly, and his bangs shadowed his face, denying Tezuka a look at it.

“What do you mean?”

“…Will you let me-“

At that moment, a tennis ball bounced towards Fuji, who cut off his own sentence in order to return the object. The seriousness vanished from him. Now he was just a tennis player enjoying a game with an opponent.

A very short boy with a white cap caught the ball.

“Thank you,” he said, and began rallying with a wall.

Tezuka stared at him. If Fuji hadn’t called out to him to start the game, Tezuka would have watched the little boy rally with the wall all day.

-0-

“If I ask you again, Tezuka,” Fuji said, so softly that Tezuka was almost unable to hear him, “what would you tell me?”

“I…” Tezuka looked away. He knew what his answer would be, but that answer would hurt Fuji, and he sincerely didn’t want Fuji hurt. “You don’t play tennis anymore,” he said.

“I knew you’d say that.”

Tezuka sighed inwardly again. He had no choice but to be honest. Fuji lied a lot, but he also deserved some truth. “Really, Fuji, if you wanted to be by my side, you shouldn’t have thrown away-“

“Have I, Tezuka?”

“But-“

“You don’t get it, don’t you.” Fuji laughed, but it was devoid of mirth, and it sounded bitter. “Well, you were always like that. I’m just wasting my time here.”

“You’re the one wasting my time, Fuji,” he shot back.

“Who’s Echizen to you?” Fuji snapped.

“He-“ Tezuka didn’t continue. There was no way he could. Contrary to what everybody else thought, even Echizen, Tezuka was not heartless and insensitive. He knew what Fuji felt, but sad to say, he could not reciprocate it. He simply should not.

“See, you can’t even answer me.”

The clouds drifted over the sun, blocking it. It seemed like a portent.

Now Tezuka didn’t want to be honest.

“Have you ever loved someone, Tezuka? Have you ever wanted to give your heart, your soul, your everything, to a person?” Fuji asked in an eerily soft tone.

I have.

“I haven’t,” Tezuka answered stoically. He wished that Echizen would call, or that it would rain, or anything that would get him out of this situation. He didn’t know what to do. He had no experience with these things.

Fuji did it for him.

“You should go now,” he said. “Echizen is waiting.”

Tezuka nodded. He readjusted his bag, tugged at the trolley. Up ahead, the clouds gave way to the cheerful sunlight. He thought it weird that the sun would smile down at his misfortune, but it was the sun, and the sun knew nothing of what he felt; it just did its job.

One step. Two. Three.

When it reached ten, Fuji said, “I love you.”

Tezuka’s heart skipped several beats. He was unable to take another step, invisible roots binding him to the concrete. His heart, when it resumed thudding, sounded like a bass drum within his chest, and it ached.

When he turned, ready to choke out his own reply, Fuji was gone.

Only the worn racket was left, and Tezuka went to pick it up.

The wind blew, and the leaves scattered, and some came to rest beside his shoes. The sun smiled at him. The watch ticked away, reminding him that he was going to be late.

Owari

Comments loved.

----

Somebody help me. I failed to enroll in the stat calss, so I'm very free this summer time. T_T But it's not really a bad thing; I can still get stat anytime next year.

And I apologize again for my lateness. I promise to catch up with reading (and commenting on) your entries, dear f-list. *huggles* 
Hi to
fayeiii!

EDIT: I apologize, f-list. if you want something read, tell me. I fail at keeping track of entries. Really.

#fandom:prince of tennis, birthday greetings, #ship:tezufuji

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