Of Regal Honor and Noble Misgivings - Five: Wind
Title: Of Regal Honor and Noble Misgivings
Pairing: TezukaFuji
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: G for now
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/Angst
Warnings: sort of regency AU, shounen ai
Disclaimer: Tezuka and Fuji aren't mine. They own each other, though. But the setting is all mine and some characters (including the animals) that you fail to recognize are also mine.
50episodes prompt: 23. wind
Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
A/N: Hehe. Sorry… I’ve been busy with school as well as stuck in Diana Wynne Jones’ fantasy. :D Please read and review!
Chapter Five
----Keep thy heart with all diligence for out of it are the issues of life.----
Several pots of cacti - short and tall, plump and thin, bulbous and long - lined the sill of Fuji’s bedroom window. Each fair, Fuji bought one or two or three or however many pots of cacti he fancied. Or, if he didn’t have coins jingling in his purse, the Duchess or Yumiko or the Prince or even Yuuta - albeit grudgingly- bought a pot or two for him. No wonder the number of cacti has grown from one to three dozens in a span of four years.
The young Marquis approached his window and picked up a tiny pot of globular cactus. He raised it and, squinting slightly, inspected it against the early morning light. “Good morning,” he greeted cheerfully.
“Aniki, stop talking to the cactus.”
The Marquis turned to his brother with an ailed smile. “Yuuta, you have offended Mitsu.” He brought his eyes back to the cactus and said, “There, there. Yuuta apologizes for his rudeness.”
“I wasn’t rude!” Yuuta yelled indignantly. He glanced sharply at Mitsu - his brother’s first and favorite cactus - as if the cactus were the wrong-doer.
“You are rude,” said Fuji pointedly. “Now you’re glaring.” A knowing grin crossed his lips. “Are you perhaps jealous of Mitsu?”
Yuuta furrowed his brows in annoyance and pressed his lips so as not to lash back. Instead, he gruffly informed, “His Highness is waiting downstairs.”
Fuji forgot about Yuuta's offense and his face lit up all of a sudden. “Really?” Without waiting for Yuuta's answer, he delicately settled the cactus on its place and crossed to his bed. He donned on a brown Gatsby cap, hurriedly slipped into his riding boots, slung a khaki satchel across his torso, patted Yuuta's head and nearly bounced out of the room.
“Where are you going?” Yuuta asked as he ran along the corridor and skipped the marble steps to catch up with his brother.
“Fishing!” Fuji declared with a beam of pride. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and waited for Yuuta. “Or,” he paused to think, “Kunimitsu will be fishing and I will be drawing… Would you like fish for dinner then?”
“I’d - “ Yuuta stopped to raise a brow. “You can’t catch a thing,” he said accusingly.
Fuji grinned, unaffected. “But Kunimitsu can catch anything.” He ruffled Yuuta's hair, causing Yuuta to mutter angrily at him, and ambled to the courtyard where the Prince was waiting on horseback.
“Good morning, Oril,” Fuji said. He raised left hand and rubbed the mane of the Prince’s young black Arabian stallion. “Good morning, Kunimitsu.”
“Are you ready?” the Prince asked, watching the usually feisty Oril shut his eyes as if enjoying Fuji’s touch.
Fuji tilted his head and saluted with his free hand. “I’m ready, captain!”
The Prince frowned at being called ‘captain.’ All the same, he nodded and, wearing a faint smile, he said, “Then mount your horse, sergeant.”
“Yes, captain!” Fuji said dutifully. He marched toward a young bay thoroughbred and accepted the reins from a stable-boy. He mounted with ease and stroked his mare’s sleek brown neck. “Good morning, Tana.”
“Let’s go,” Tezuka said once Fuji was settled on the saddle. He gripped the reins and squeezed Oril’s sides with his legs. He led through the gates, allowing the horses to trot leisurely. He bore in mind that the trip to the river would take an hour or two. Fuji always wanted to take stops to sketch a bird or a deer or a rabbit or a tree on the way. After all, Fuji said that going fishing was also sight-seeing, playing, eating, sitting and waiting and sitting and waiting.
oOo
The Fenestral River flowed gently. The clear water hummed, carrying the leaves that fell in the early autumn. The Marquis chose the spot for the Prince’s fishing where a huge black boulder stood. He pointed out that a boulder was essential. Where else was the Prince supposed to sit on, the Marquis asked, while waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for the fish to come?
The Prince did not argue. He tied Oril to a tree surrounded by grass and waited as Fuji did the same to Tana.
“Hm… the wind is picking up,” Fuji said happily. He opened the satchel and took out his sketchpad.
Blinking, the Prince turned to Fuji while he took the fishing rod from Oril. “Why is the wind so important?” Tezuka asked.
“Because it’s autumn,” Fuji said simply. He kicked off his boots, rolled up his pants and sat on a small rock so that his feet dangled in the cool flowing water. He took his pencil out and said delightedly, “The wind is strong up here.”
“Don’t wade your feet too much; you’ll scare the fish away,” the Prince warned. He climbed the rock and threw the fishing line to the water. “Why is the wind so important?”
Fuji arched a single brow and eyed Tezuka calculatingly. The Prince was quite curious, it seemed, which remarkably amused the Marquis. “Will you catch anything if you keep on talking?”
The Prince knitted his brows together and didn’t utter a word more. He focused instead on the fishing pole at hand and waited.
Fuji smiled inwardly as he sketched. Tezuka was pressing his lips, still apparently brooding on why the wind was so important. Feeling quite generous, the Marquis stopped drawing for a moment and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll show you why it’s so important when I’m done.”
The Prince didn’t turn but the crease on his forehead was gone in an instant.
An hour passed and then two but still there was no fish. The Marquis found himself admiring the Prince’s patience. He believed that Tezuka simply had to be the most patient person in the kingdom for waiting a couple of hours for a single fish to eat the bait. But the Marquis didn’t really mind; some months ago, he had discovered that his best portraits of Tezuka were drawn during fishing.
“Don’t you get bored?” Tezuka asked.
Fuji inclined his head. “Are you bored?” he asked with surprise.
“I was asking you,” Tezuka said pointedly.
“No,” said Fuji truthfully. “I’m drawing you, so I don’t get bored.”
“Don’t you get tired of drawing me then?” Tezuka asked. He was wearing his usual serious expression that Fuji couldn’t help but laugh. “Yuuta says that I always look old and nothing else.”
“Does it bother you?” Fuji asked, still sketching.
“No,” Tezuka said honestly.
The Marquis chuckled. He climbed up the boulder and sat cross-legged beside the Prince. He flipped the pages of his sketchpad and tore two pieces of paper off. “You do look old,” Fuji said, laughing heartily. “But you do have expressions. See these portraits?” He held out the two sheets of paper in front of Tezuka. “They have differences.”
Tezuka stared at the two other Tezukas in front of him. “I don’t see any.”
Fuji’s nose crinkled. “There is a difference.” He put the papers flat on the rock and pointed to one where Tezuka was hovering above an open book. “You see this? I drew this in class. When you’re listening to the governess, your brows move together in concentration.” Then, Fuji pointed to the next. “This one here was drawn after archery training. Your eyes droop a little when you’re tired.” Fuji patted Tezuka’s back. “You do have different expressions, you see.”
Tezuka searched the pictures closely for those traces and he nodded, finally seeing the difference. He watched as Fuji climbed down and sat back on the smaller rock. He decided that Fuji must be really talented to be able to draw those tiny differences in him that he himself couldn’t see.
The Prince jerked his head back to the fishing rod as he felt two tugs and then he tried to reel in.
Fuji looked over the water. He saw a faint silhouette of the fish and he grinned up at Tezuka. “It looks big,” he said eagerly.
“It is big,” Tezuka said as he pulled the line. But the fish was tugging forcefully. Fuji had climbed up the boulder again to help Tezuka when the line broke with a loud snap.
“It snapped,” Fuji said quietly.
Tezuka held what was left of the line and repeated what Fuji said, “It snapped.”
“Hmm… You can replace it with another line,” Fuji said reassuringly. “We have to go home now, don’t we?”
“Ojiichan gave it to me,” Tezuka said. His forehead was lined with worry.
“I know,” Fuji said. “But he won’t get angry, will he?” When Tezuka didn’t answer, Fuji added, “No, he won’t get angry. That fishing line must be older than you so no wonder it snapped. And it was a big fish,” Fuji said, holding out his hands two feet apart for emphasis.
Still frowning, Tezuka nodded and let himself be gestured by Fuji toward the horses.
oOo
The Prince was still quiet on the way home that the Marquis did not insist on chasing a rabbit that he saw among the bushes. Fuji tried tempting the Prince with his sketch, saying that he would allow Tezuka to have a hint of why the wind was so important.
“Are you done?” Tezuka asked flatly.
“Not yet, but - “
“I can wait till you’re done,” the Prince said tonelessly.
“Aren’t you even intrigued? You were so curious too,” Fuji said, his left hand was waving his sketch toward Tezuka while his other hand held the reins.
But the Prince only said, “I can wait till you’re done.”
Fuji pressed his lips, thinking. He was sure he didn’t do anything that Tezuka disapproved of and he hoped that Tezuka didn’t blame him for the fishing line that broke. “You’re not angry at me, are you? I didn’t break the line, did I?”
At once, Tezuka raised his head and said, “I’m not angry. You didn’t break it.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Fuji asked worriedly.
“I don’t know,” Tezuka answered.
“But you haven’t been - “ Fuji stopped Tana and stared as they entered the Fujis’ manor. “Why are your parents here?” He asked, eyeing the royal carriage thoughtfully.
The Prince tugged at Oril’s reins and Oril halted obediently. He dismounted and strode to the carriage. The carriage door opened, and the Queen said gravely, “Kunimitsu, dear, we have to leave for Ildarium this instant.”
-tbc-
A/N: Fenestra (after which Fenestrium and Fenestral River) is actually a part of the human anatomy. I just liked the sound of it… I just had to turn it into a name of some sort. -geek- And, well, I’d imagined that the sketchpad was a bundle of paper tied with strings. :D
Pairing: TezukaFuji
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: G for now
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/Angst
Warnings: sort of regency AU, shounen ai
Disclaimer: Tezuka and Fuji aren't mine. They own each other, though. But the setting is all mine and some characters (including the animals) that you fail to recognize are also mine.
50episodes prompt: 23. wind
Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
A/N: Hehe. Sorry… I’ve been busy with school as well as stuck in Diana Wynne Jones’ fantasy. :D Please read and review!
Chapter Five
----Keep thy heart with all diligence for out of it are the issues of life.----
Several pots of cacti - short and tall, plump and thin, bulbous and long - lined the sill of Fuji’s bedroom window. Each fair, Fuji bought one or two or three or however many pots of cacti he fancied. Or, if he didn’t have coins jingling in his purse, the Duchess or Yumiko or the Prince or even Yuuta - albeit grudgingly- bought a pot or two for him. No wonder the number of cacti has grown from one to three dozens in a span of four years.
The young Marquis approached his window and picked up a tiny pot of globular cactus. He raised it and, squinting slightly, inspected it against the early morning light. “Good morning,” he greeted cheerfully.
“Aniki, stop talking to the cactus.”
The Marquis turned to his brother with an ailed smile. “Yuuta, you have offended Mitsu.” He brought his eyes back to the cactus and said, “There, there. Yuuta apologizes for his rudeness.”
“I wasn’t rude!” Yuuta yelled indignantly. He glanced sharply at Mitsu - his brother’s first and favorite cactus - as if the cactus were the wrong-doer.
“You are rude,” said Fuji pointedly. “Now you’re glaring.” A knowing grin crossed his lips. “Are you perhaps jealous of Mitsu?”
Yuuta furrowed his brows in annoyance and pressed his lips so as not to lash back. Instead, he gruffly informed, “His Highness is waiting downstairs.”
Fuji forgot about Yuuta's offense and his face lit up all of a sudden. “Really?” Without waiting for Yuuta's answer, he delicately settled the cactus on its place and crossed to his bed. He donned on a brown Gatsby cap, hurriedly slipped into his riding boots, slung a khaki satchel across his torso, patted Yuuta's head and nearly bounced out of the room.
“Where are you going?” Yuuta asked as he ran along the corridor and skipped the marble steps to catch up with his brother.
“Fishing!” Fuji declared with a beam of pride. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and waited for Yuuta. “Or,” he paused to think, “Kunimitsu will be fishing and I will be drawing… Would you like fish for dinner then?”
“I’d - “ Yuuta stopped to raise a brow. “You can’t catch a thing,” he said accusingly.
Fuji grinned, unaffected. “But Kunimitsu can catch anything.” He ruffled Yuuta's hair, causing Yuuta to mutter angrily at him, and ambled to the courtyard where the Prince was waiting on horseback.
“Good morning, Oril,” Fuji said. He raised left hand and rubbed the mane of the Prince’s young black Arabian stallion. “Good morning, Kunimitsu.”
“Are you ready?” the Prince asked, watching the usually feisty Oril shut his eyes as if enjoying Fuji’s touch.
Fuji tilted his head and saluted with his free hand. “I’m ready, captain!”
The Prince frowned at being called ‘captain.’ All the same, he nodded and, wearing a faint smile, he said, “Then mount your horse, sergeant.”
“Yes, captain!” Fuji said dutifully. He marched toward a young bay thoroughbred and accepted the reins from a stable-boy. He mounted with ease and stroked his mare’s sleek brown neck. “Good morning, Tana.”
“Let’s go,” Tezuka said once Fuji was settled on the saddle. He gripped the reins and squeezed Oril’s sides with his legs. He led through the gates, allowing the horses to trot leisurely. He bore in mind that the trip to the river would take an hour or two. Fuji always wanted to take stops to sketch a bird or a deer or a rabbit or a tree on the way. After all, Fuji said that going fishing was also sight-seeing, playing, eating, sitting and waiting and sitting and waiting.
oOo
The Fenestral River flowed gently. The clear water hummed, carrying the leaves that fell in the early autumn. The Marquis chose the spot for the Prince’s fishing where a huge black boulder stood. He pointed out that a boulder was essential. Where else was the Prince supposed to sit on, the Marquis asked, while waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for the fish to come?
The Prince did not argue. He tied Oril to a tree surrounded by grass and waited as Fuji did the same to Tana.
“Hm… the wind is picking up,” Fuji said happily. He opened the satchel and took out his sketchpad.
Blinking, the Prince turned to Fuji while he took the fishing rod from Oril. “Why is the wind so important?” Tezuka asked.
“Because it’s autumn,” Fuji said simply. He kicked off his boots, rolled up his pants and sat on a small rock so that his feet dangled in the cool flowing water. He took his pencil out and said delightedly, “The wind is strong up here.”
“Don’t wade your feet too much; you’ll scare the fish away,” the Prince warned. He climbed the rock and threw the fishing line to the water. “Why is the wind so important?”
Fuji arched a single brow and eyed Tezuka calculatingly. The Prince was quite curious, it seemed, which remarkably amused the Marquis. “Will you catch anything if you keep on talking?”
The Prince knitted his brows together and didn’t utter a word more. He focused instead on the fishing pole at hand and waited.
Fuji smiled inwardly as he sketched. Tezuka was pressing his lips, still apparently brooding on why the wind was so important. Feeling quite generous, the Marquis stopped drawing for a moment and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll show you why it’s so important when I’m done.”
The Prince didn’t turn but the crease on his forehead was gone in an instant.
An hour passed and then two but still there was no fish. The Marquis found himself admiring the Prince’s patience. He believed that Tezuka simply had to be the most patient person in the kingdom for waiting a couple of hours for a single fish to eat the bait. But the Marquis didn’t really mind; some months ago, he had discovered that his best portraits of Tezuka were drawn during fishing.
“Don’t you get bored?” Tezuka asked.
Fuji inclined his head. “Are you bored?” he asked with surprise.
“I was asking you,” Tezuka said pointedly.
“No,” said Fuji truthfully. “I’m drawing you, so I don’t get bored.”
“Don’t you get tired of drawing me then?” Tezuka asked. He was wearing his usual serious expression that Fuji couldn’t help but laugh. “Yuuta says that I always look old and nothing else.”
“Does it bother you?” Fuji asked, still sketching.
“No,” Tezuka said honestly.
The Marquis chuckled. He climbed up the boulder and sat cross-legged beside the Prince. He flipped the pages of his sketchpad and tore two pieces of paper off. “You do look old,” Fuji said, laughing heartily. “But you do have expressions. See these portraits?” He held out the two sheets of paper in front of Tezuka. “They have differences.”
Tezuka stared at the two other Tezukas in front of him. “I don’t see any.”
Fuji’s nose crinkled. “There is a difference.” He put the papers flat on the rock and pointed to one where Tezuka was hovering above an open book. “You see this? I drew this in class. When you’re listening to the governess, your brows move together in concentration.” Then, Fuji pointed to the next. “This one here was drawn after archery training. Your eyes droop a little when you’re tired.” Fuji patted Tezuka’s back. “You do have different expressions, you see.”
Tezuka searched the pictures closely for those traces and he nodded, finally seeing the difference. He watched as Fuji climbed down and sat back on the smaller rock. He decided that Fuji must be really talented to be able to draw those tiny differences in him that he himself couldn’t see.
The Prince jerked his head back to the fishing rod as he felt two tugs and then he tried to reel in.
Fuji looked over the water. He saw a faint silhouette of the fish and he grinned up at Tezuka. “It looks big,” he said eagerly.
“It is big,” Tezuka said as he pulled the line. But the fish was tugging forcefully. Fuji had climbed up the boulder again to help Tezuka when the line broke with a loud snap.
“It snapped,” Fuji said quietly.
Tezuka held what was left of the line and repeated what Fuji said, “It snapped.”
“Hmm… You can replace it with another line,” Fuji said reassuringly. “We have to go home now, don’t we?”
“Ojiichan gave it to me,” Tezuka said. His forehead was lined with worry.
“I know,” Fuji said. “But he won’t get angry, will he?” When Tezuka didn’t answer, Fuji added, “No, he won’t get angry. That fishing line must be older than you so no wonder it snapped. And it was a big fish,” Fuji said, holding out his hands two feet apart for emphasis.
Still frowning, Tezuka nodded and let himself be gestured by Fuji toward the horses.
oOo
The Prince was still quiet on the way home that the Marquis did not insist on chasing a rabbit that he saw among the bushes. Fuji tried tempting the Prince with his sketch, saying that he would allow Tezuka to have a hint of why the wind was so important.
“Are you done?” Tezuka asked flatly.
“Not yet, but - “
“I can wait till you’re done,” the Prince said tonelessly.
“Aren’t you even intrigued? You were so curious too,” Fuji said, his left hand was waving his sketch toward Tezuka while his other hand held the reins.
But the Prince only said, “I can wait till you’re done.”
Fuji pressed his lips, thinking. He was sure he didn’t do anything that Tezuka disapproved of and he hoped that Tezuka didn’t blame him for the fishing line that broke. “You’re not angry at me, are you? I didn’t break the line, did I?”
At once, Tezuka raised his head and said, “I’m not angry. You didn’t break it.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Fuji asked worriedly.
“I don’t know,” Tezuka answered.
“But you haven’t been - “ Fuji stopped Tana and stared as they entered the Fujis’ manor. “Why are your parents here?” He asked, eyeing the royal carriage thoughtfully.
The Prince tugged at Oril’s reins and Oril halted obediently. He dismounted and strode to the carriage. The carriage door opened, and the Queen said gravely, “Kunimitsu, dear, we have to leave for Ildarium this instant.”
-tbc-
A/N: Fenestra (after which Fenestrium and Fenestral River) is actually a part of the human anatomy. I just liked the sound of it… I just had to turn it into a name of some sort. -geek- And, well, I’d imagined that the sketchpad was a bundle of paper tied with strings. :D