Why Sony does not write PoT: Take One
To Norisumi and the prompt in the first sentence.
The Little Prince of Tennis
"Five-hundred-and-one million, six-hundred-twenty-two-thousand, seven-hundred-and-thirty-one stars in the sky."
Tezuka watched as Fuji lay on his back and pointed his finger at the sky, picking out the stars. He hadn't actually counted that many, had he?
"The Little Prince. We read it in class today." The boy in question lowered his hand and turned his lightly closed eyes towards Tezuka. "I thought it was an interesting story."
Tezuka sighed, and joined Fuji on the blanket, sitting cross legged. He wished that sometimes Fuji would just say things outright in a more direct, clear manner. He seemed to enjoy playing with his words, no matter what he said.
"About stars?" Fuji had said something about stargazing, which was half the reason for this seemingly out-of-nowhere trip to the countryside. The other half—according to Fuji, was that he wanted to try out his new camera, and that it was no fun by himself. Why going on his trips alone had never bothered Fuji before, Tezuka had no idea.
"Wouldn't you enjoy watching the sunset and the sunrise as often as you liked?" Fuji's smile was, if possible, more enigmatic than usual. At least to Tezuka, that was how it appeared. But the moon was just waxing crescent, and the soft glow it gave wasn't much help when trying to decipher a smile that was impossible to crack.
Tezuka wasn't quite certain what the rising and setting of the sun had to do with stars either, so he just replied with a noncommittal "Hn."
A sweet sort of silence coated the night breeze. Even the crickets paused to revel in it. Fuji watched the stars, and Tezuka watched Fuji. No, that wasn't right, he thought. He wasn't watching Fuji. He simply had no wish to lie back and watch the pinpricks of light, nor crane has neck uncomfortably for such a nonconsequential goal. Nor did the sparse trees, nor the blanket of grass hold any more interest. So he watched Fuji. And Fuji watched the stars.
And Tezuka thought how even under such dim lighting, especially under such soft lighting, Fuji's hair shone with a sort of brilliance, and his open eyes were so incredibly piercingly beautiful.
The night breeze picked up into a wind, discarding the silence that muffled the night songs with as much care as tossing aside a coat in summer. And as he watched Fuji's fingers absentmindedly brush away a strand of hair, his thoughts returned to the stars, and he lay down beside the other boy.
Five-hundred-and-one million, six-hundred-twenty-two-thousand, seven-hundred-and-thirty-one stars in the sky.
And he wondered how many there truly were.
And although he would later wonder at himself for this, he wondered if there were now one star less up there, and if there were one more star down on earth.
He only wondered more as a warm hand happened to brush against his, and as another night breeze danced the silence in once again.
As for the title at the top of the page...let's just say that it was my filename, and well...The Little Prince + Prince of Tennis
Thank you for reading and as always, reviews are loved!
-- Sony