Tezuka’s in his first lecture of the day. It’s boring him already and he hasn’t even been sitting still for two minutes. The padded chair he’s in is probably only a few years old, but still old enough that so many students have sat in it as to give the blue colour an almost green tint and the fabric a worn, used kind of look.

Someone sits ( Read more... )

“What are we doing on Sunday?” Inui asked to the quiet room, his shirt pasted to his skin, sweat plastering it against his toned muscles as he lay flat on his back on the floor of Fuji’s bedroom.

Tezuka was the one who answered. “I don’t have any plans.”

Fuji offered a noise of agreement from where he was sprawled next to Tezuka. “It’s too ( Read more... )

Inui examined the octagonal shaped lid, fingers pressing against the white plastic as he raised the product to his nose, sniffing at it.

“What did you find Inui?” Fuji asked, bumping against his side lightly, hand playfully lifting the tube from his hands. “Hand cream?” he asked, amused, uncapping it and sniffing.

“Ah, yes,” Inui responded ( Read more... )

Staying Objective
By Pockets
Redpocket.livejournal.com

“I heard you turned down medicine,” Fuji began.

Tezuka nodded, brief creases at the sides of his mouth as he pursed his lips. They surprised Fuji, in a way, as though he hadn’t quite been prepared to see Tezuka in person, and see the way he’d aged, just like they all had.

There was a strangeness ( Read more... )