30_Smiles: TezukaxFuji Part One
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Title: Eden
Chapters: 3/30
Author/Artist: relinquished972
Theme(s): #27 [Pride; High and Mighty]
Pairing/Characters: Tezuka/Fuji
Rating: PG
Disclaimer/Claimer: I don’t own Prince of Tennis and the plot was inspired by Gundam Seed so you may see elements that resemble Gundam Seed inside
Summary: [AU fic, 30_Smiles] An attempt at recreating Genesis has led to the emergence of a new humanoid race called the Apathos, who are smarter, stronger and more resilient than the original humans. Cast out of Earth, the Apathos have begun to rebel, waging war against their creators . . .
Chapter Three
~ Indebted ~
Part One
The atmosphere around the crew had changed slightly by the next day as Poseidon was due to take off. For one thing, Kikumaru and Oishi had told the rest of the crew about Fuji’s parentage - rather, they confirmed the rumours that had been going around. Everyone was buzzing with gossip about the young colonel’s family and about his work with the army.
“I heard he shot down three fighters on the way here!”
“Wasn’t it four?”
“I heard it was six!”
“There were six fighters against him, but he shot down three!”
A shout of laughter sounded from the gossipers as Fuji and Tezuka turned into the corridor. No one had noticed the two of them as yet and so continued to talk. They had started developing rather interesting theories as to why the Chairman’s son was in the army and why he wasn’t back on Earth, learning politics like the children of other Senators.
“. . . get this: the Chairman himself was a member of the army before he was elected into the Government! So he sent his son to do what he couldn’t do!”
Fuji chuckled, glancing up at Tezuka, who was scowling. Or, at least, looking severely displeased and trying not to scowl. This had happened within their hearing more than once before and each time, the whispers and rumours grew wilder. If it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t allowed to punish them when they hadn’t even done anything, they would already be scrubbing toilets.
“Let the rumours die,” Fuji said, amused. “Once we’re gone, they’ll lose interest in their stories and everything will be back to normal.”
“I certainly hope so.” Tezuka didn’t add that, unless Fuji didn’t perform any ‘miracles’ or amazing feats of combative prowess, the rumours would never die.
They entered the laundry chambers to collect their uniforms. It was customary for each officer to have three or four sets of uniforms ready when they left on missions. Tezuka took his with a nod, but had to wait as Fuji was engaged in friendly conversation with the officer in charge.
“So, Poseidon is departing later today, I heard.”
“Yes, we are.” Fuji glanced at the clothing in the bag. “Though I don’t really understand why we have to bring so many sets of uniforms besides our regular gear. It’s not that the enemy would be seeing us while we fight.”
“Yes, well, doing laundry in outer space is rather difficult, don’t you think?” The officer shrugged. “From my experience, zero-gravity would be disastrous to the washing. It’s protocol, colonel, we can’t help that.”
“Agreed.”
Tezuka grew impatient at the idle chatter and rested a hand on Fuji’s shoulder, indicating that they should leave. The casual touch made Fuji smile and turn his attention to the older teen, drawing the conversation to him.
“Oh, sorry to delay you, General,” the officer apologised. “I guess you’d better leave then, since you have urgent business. Take care on the mission.”
“Ah, thank you.”
He led Fuji out, the hand still resting on his shoulder, steering him into the corridor and towards the residential wings. Tezuka’s rooms were upstairs, where the other generals had been assigned larger and more spacious rooms. Fuji’s was smaller, on a lower floor. He swiped his security card on the door to his room and pressed his thumb onto the sensory pad, unlocking it with a beep.
“It’s much smaller than yours, to be sure, but it’s cosy,” he said with a chuckle. “How do you like it?”
It was half the size of Tezuka’s own rooms, though he didn’t comment on that. There was a small kitchen, even though there was a perfectly good mess hall downstairs, a bathroom, two rooms (one, presumably, the bedroom) and a comfortable living room. The place itself was impeccably tidy and bright, the open window bringing sunlight into the room. Fuji stood beside him, surveying his room with relish.
“It’s a good place,” Tezuka commented finally.
“I thought so too, but I’m hardly ever here and it’s a wonder it’s still so clean,” Fuji said with a laugh. He dragged the older teen to the sofa and sat him down. “A drink, general?”
“Fuji . . .” there was a fond undertone to the warning.
“Kidding.” Fuji returned it with his own soft smile. “I’m serious about the drink, though, Tezuka.”
XXX
Several minutes later, they were both settled on the sofa with mugs of hot tea on the table in front of them. Fuji was sitting so that their clothes barely brushed and the hand setting down his mug showed signs of suppressed trembling. He himself looked slightly distracted. Tezuka noticed this and reached out a hand to steady the other’s.
“Are you all right?” he asked in concern. “Carefully, now . . . I’ve got it.”
He noticed, also, how Fuji flinched slightly at the contact and the muscles in his hand twitched reflexively as if to pull away. He took the mug from Fuji’s hand and set it on the table in front of them. With his other hand, he took hold of the other and held him firmly.
“You’re distracted,” he said, fixing the blonde with a stern look.
“Sorry . . .”
“Why are you so agitated? Do I make you uncomfortable?”
Fuji shook his head quickly and edged closer to rest his head against Tezuka’s shoulder lightly. At the light touch, Tezuka stiffened, but then he relaxed and reached his arm gently around the other’s shoulders and pulled him closer.
“I - you . . .” Fuji tightened his grip on Tezuka’s hand.
“Yes?” Tezuka prompted. “What about us?”
Tezuka had long decided that Fuji was too feminine for his own good. When growing up, he had been quiet and cheerful, unconcerned about expressing his affections for people. This had resulted in him clinging to his closest companion - Tezuka - and having the older boy take care of him. His family doted on him while they were growing up and they had always coddled and babied him because he was their prodigy. He was open and cared little for what others had to say about this sort of behaviour, so this had carried into his teenage years.
“You talked to my father before this, didn’t you?” Somehow, Tezuka didn’t think that that was the original topic, but he nodded anyway. “What did he tell you?”
“He knows you’re here.” At Fuji’s sceptical look, the older teen gave a wry grin. “You didn’t believe he wouldn’t realise that his eldest son had skipped ahead and finished school early, only to disappear for two years, before causing all these rumours because of his talent in combat, did you?”
“I’ll bet he found out when you told him,” Fuji shot back, his eyes hard and annoyed. No longer clinging to Tezuka, he crossed his arms and turned away. “He hasn’t cared for years now.”
“Look, Fuji, I know you say that, but think carefully about it. He’s cared for you for years . . . he loves you and he wants what’s best for you. When, in your life, has he neglected to care for your needs?”
“You wouldn’t know.” It was unsettling, the harshness in Fuji’s voice, and it left a weight in Tezuka’s chest. “You don’t know what he did - you don’t know what he can and will do, especially if you force him.”
And the strained smile on his face as Tezuka watched him told a story of many grievances and hardships beyond comprehension. The older teen felt a chill run down his spine as he pulled his friend closer against his chest, wanting and praying for the coldness and unspoken suffering to disappear.
XXX
The outer layer of Neo-Eden’s atmosphere was a virtual sensor. Every craft that passed through it would be scanned and identified, before being allowed to enter the innermost atmosphere. There was generally very heavy security leaving the place, though if the procedures had been followed correctly, there would be little problems.
Tezuka cleared all procedures efficiently and quickly, like he usually did, with very little hassle. Councillor Ryuzaki had already stressed how important the mission Poseidon undertook was and a word from her was enough to speed the procedures leading up to the takeoff. Lieutenant Oishi sat at the control station below Tezuka’s on the command bridge.
“We’ll be completely clear of Neo-Eden’s sensors in a few moments,” he announced.
“The moment we are clear, set the destination coordinates for Gondwana and activate the turbo engines.”
“What kind of danger do you think we’ll be in this time, general?” their major and communications officer, Kajimoto Takahisa, asked. He fine-tuned his ear piece. “I’m reading clear at this point, but there may be a surprise attack on us as soon as we leave the atmosphere.”
“Directly outside Neo-Eden’s borders?” one of the newer officers asked, startled. “Is that possible?”
If it were anyone but Kajimoto, they would have given the young man a withering look. As it was, he merely glanced at the other and proceeded to ignore him. The officer was a new addition to their crew and his companion leaned over to whisper briefly about the surprise attack outside Gondwana’s borders. Oishi then announced their exit of the sensory atmosphere and Tezuka gave the order for the turbo engines to activate. A heart-stopping second later, the artificial planet of Neo-Eden disappeared in a shimmer of silvery light, the shielding device kicking in.
“Still clear,” Kajimoto announced.
“The first shift has begun then,” Tezuka stood. “I will be leaving the control to you this shift, lieutenant. If anything happens, alert me immediately. In case of any immediate danger, call for battle stations first.”
“Yes, General!”
Oishi watched him leave, at attention, hand raised in a salute. As the door hissed shut, a bright red circle appeared on the screen of everyone’s control monitor. It was an indicator of how much time was left to the next shift, adopted by all ships within the Earth army. When the circle became all white, then it was rest for those who had been working. Each shift lasted an hour and it provided adequate protect and rest for all crew members.
“Um, lieutenant . . .” one of the probational privates, Horio Satoshi, ventured. His comical mono-brow twitched slightly. “Will we really be attacked?”
“Horio! Don’t say that!” his friend, Katou Kachiro, protested. He glanced around nervously. “It’ll be bad luck to say something like that at the beginning of the mission!”
Oishi laughed good-naturedly and the higher-ranking officers joined in as well. The two young probational privates, barely graduated from the academy, weren’t certain as to what was so funny. They had been sent on this mission as a practical assessment of their abilities and they still had a full two years to go before they were really past the probation stage. Not having been in direct combat before and suddenly sent on this supposedly dangerous mission was daunting for them.
Finally, their fellow private (but one who had graduated already), Momoshiro, took pity on them.
“You see, luck is something the general disapproves of. He doesn’t believe that luck is what gets this crew through missions and danger.” The violet-eyed teen tapped his temple with a finger. “It’s all in here, he says. We use brains here, not luck.”
“Momo, you use brains?” a crew member called teasingly from the battle bridge below. “I thought you wore lucky shorts!”
“Hey, Ikeda, shut up!”
“All right, you two, that’s enough!” Oishi commanded, not entirely unamused. “Kajimoto, how are things reading?”
“Everything is clear . . .” A frown marred Kajimoto’s smooth brow as he raised a hand to his ear piece again. “No, wait. There’s a slight interference with the radar . . . lieutenant! Battleship-classed craft approaching starboard! Confirmed: Tisiphone!”
“Contact the general!” Oishi shouted. “All crew members to battle stations!”
XXX
“All crew members to battle stations.”
Fuji looked up from where he had been telling Kikumaru a new story. Te broadcast was still echoing through the ship and they rose to join the scurry towards their own battle stations. The white circle on his wristwatch was barely a quarter changed, meaning that only fifteen minutes had passed since the first shift began. Nevertheless, they raced off quickly to the hangar dressing rooms to change into their battle suits.
“We’ve barely taken off!” Kikumaru whined as he zipped up his heat-proof, skin tight suit. He fasted the gloves on, clicking the remaining buckles into place.
“Work is work,” Fuji replied with an easy shrug, checking his helmet over quickly. “There’s little we can do about it.”
As they left the room, the Fudomine team passed by, Kamio Akira at the head of the group. They stopped and saluted to both Kikumaru and Fuji, who were higher ranked, but said nothing. Fuji approached them, ignoring Kikumaru’s silent protest.
“Kamio, I hope we can set aside our differences for the moment, in order to battle the enemy,” he said calmly, addressing his statement to the de facto leader directly. “It would not do for our personal issues to affect our performance on the battlefield, as it would cost lives.”
“Che,” Kamio grunted. “Only because Colonel Tachibana would have done the same and wanted this too.”
“I’m sure he was a noble man then.”
Kamio led the team off towards the hangar, already dressed in the black suits that defined the Fudomine as a team. They were immensely proud of those uniforms and its representation of Tachibana Kippei. Fuji had decided that he would not take this pride and remaining tribute to their leader away from them, so he wore the blue, white and red suit of Poseidon’s crew.
“One of these days, Fuji, you’d have to teach them a lesson in respect,” Kikumaru said, glaring after them.
“They do know how to respect,” Fuji said softly. He smiled. “Their undying loyalty to Tachibana shows that.”
XXX
Part Two can be found here