Unhappily Ever After?
BY: MYLiFE'SBOAT
Dun own anythin' Prince of Tennis.
FOR THOSE WHO READ THIS STORY BEFORE: THIS ONE IS EDITED but still UNBETA-ED—so I might have missed something. I was completely out of it last night so, there were a lot of typos and mistakes and I even spotted a dangling modifier, ". . . when Tezuka finished high school on a street mugging." WTH. Anyway, I've fixed that part. AND ALSO, I added some parts which were not on the original draft.
o - o - o - o - o
The wind kissed their faces; the early August air crisp and monotonous. The fragrant whiff of cherry blossom filled the atmosphere; its leaves falling to their feet in a graceful manner.
Two young men stood hidden behind a large tree inside the grounds of Seishun Gakuen; their voices low, their conversation to a murmur. One held a slick tennis racket, the other nothing.
"Why?" the younger one asked, one hand fisting to a ball as the other one gripped the racket tighter on his grasp. His voice was wavering--torn between controlling his emotions and letting them go.
"Because. . ." the other's voice trailed off as if he wasn't sure of what to say. Why, indeed? "You don't have to know, Echizen. It's my choice."
He, himself, did not know. He tried to appear calm. Tried to keep his voice steady, even if it threatened to break away.
Echizen used to be a patient man. But this time, as much as he wanted to restrain himself, as much as he wanted to keep himself cool, it was difficult to hold back.
It just wasn't right. Everything had fallen out of place, like the cherry blossom sprawled beside their feet.
He raised his head and looked at the other man. He could see it in his eyes: the grief, the regret. . .
"Don't fuck with me!" he shouted, his fist digging into the other's cheekbone. His racket landed somewhere as both his hands grabbed the collar of the other's shirt and shook him. His knuckles hurt but he didn't care. "Don't fuck with me, buchou!"
Tezuka winced with pain but kept a straight face. "I'm not your captain anymore, Echizen. I've said it. It's my choice."
It angered him more. Echizen wanted to slap him awake. It was insanity. But the more he thought about it, the more illogical his thoughts became and he didn't want to inflict anyone any more physical harm.
"Fine." He let go and walked away to pick up his tennis racket. "Have it your way, you fucking moron."
Without another word, he turned and marched away.
It didn't surprise him really. Echizen--the whole team as a matter of fact--respected him, not just as their tennis captain, but as a person as well. He had imagined their reactions when he filed his resignation from the team but he didn't realize Echizen would dare to go that far.
But the boy had made his point clear and Tezuka knew he'd live with this for the rest of his life. He was a bastard.
---
"Hey Tezuka." A finger poked his arm, trying to get his attention. "Tezuka-san, snap out of it."
"Hn?" He jerked away from his thoughts, not even realizing he was spacing out. He turned to look at the guy beside him, Nakamura Miyagi, a classmate in con law and taxation and most of his other classes. He had forgotten the name of the guy a few times before he remembered it because 1) he had met a lot of people on his first day and no one was expected to remember each faces they see on their first day and 2) he met him at con law, the toughest course in the world. EVER. That's why his attention was focused on the professor and not with any one else in the class.
Con law for Tezuka, he must admit as few of his fellow classmates, is torture. Their professor was an abomination in the course itself. But as patient as he was and the usual don't-let-your-guard-down facade, he managed to sit behind three rows of chairs, listening to a long lecture about human rights and old cases about violation of human rights.
Kobayashi Yamada's classes were, in short terms, hated the most. For one, he taught constitutional law with thorns and flaming torches aimed at his students, and his exams covered most cases they never tackled in class. He was not a soft-grader either, and insists that for students to learn and deserve working a hundred bucks an hour, they should have, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
He was old with graying hair, wrinkles and sagging skin, and most of his students, particularly those on the last row (the smokers, the jocks and what-they-call-themselves-cool), spread rumors that, "No doubt, he's still a friggin' virgin and will never taste one hotshot ever."
But still, eighty students, including Tezuka, burned their butts to meet Kobayashi three mornings a week. That's probably just fine. At least he kept himself busy with his free time studying for the court cases Kobayashi might include in the exams.
"Do you think Kobayashi will include Takashima vs. Osaka in the finals?" Miyagi asked while flipping a page on his portfolio, where most of his files and review materials were stuffed. In other words, his life depended solely on it.
Tezuka shrugged wearily while collecting his books. Class was over. He checked his schedule and his next was taxation under Smith in three hours. "Probably. I think we should look into everything. Kobayashi is most of the time unpredictable."
"Always, you say," Miyagi scoffed as both of them made their way out of the classroom.
The hallway was almost empty when they reached it. Miyagi excused himself for his next class and Tezuka said he needed some sleep and would go back to his apartment after grabbing a bite. They'd meet in taxation anyway. He dropped by at the nearest fast-food in the area, ordered a quick meal, and hailed a cab home.
It was a one-room apartment a few kilometers from law school and a few feet away from cafes and restaurants where he normally eats when he has not enough time to cook for his own. The money for law school was covered mainly by his dad's insurance. He died a few years back on a school mugging before Tezuka finished middle school. The case was brought to court but a few weeks later, the judge trashed it away because there was not much evidence and the witnesses totaled to zero. Since then, Tezuka was resolved to sue these bastards until they rot in hell.
Lawyers or aspiring lawyers held only two reasons for letting themselves suffer a few years in law school: idealism and money. It can only be for money; probably both. But idealism can never stand alone. Tezuka did it for both: he wanted revenge for his father's death and at the same time, pull his mother and grandfather out of poverty. Not that they were deprived; at least the insurance money was something. But who wouldn't want to go for the buck if given a chance?
In this world, baby, living in a world of fantasy is a hallucination of its own.
Tezuka dropped his bag on the couch and spread his food on the coffee table. It was a cramped room--though according to the landlady, it was actually intended for two people to share--but since he wanted to save money (rent was cheap because the dorm was unisex) and he had not much stuff, it suited him just right. The couch was plump and fluffy; he liked it. The coffee table was just right and at night, it would be cluttered with his books and a couple of case files he had to study for the exams. If he was too tired to spread the futon in the middle of the room, he can sleep on the couch. It was big enough and he fit in fine.
The doorknob clicked loudly and Tezuka straightened up. He whipped his head around to the direction of the door and frowned. He knew he had locked it when he closed it behind. It wouldn't be the landlady because it was one of the ground rules. He dropped the fork back on his styro-plate and walked to the door.
It opened quickly and an attractive young female in tight washed jeans and a plaid cotton sweater slid clumsily through it and hurriedly grasped the handle for support. Tezuka wanted to ask who she was but she snapped her head to him and squinted her eyes. "Huh? Who are you?"
"This is my room," he told her, unsure if he should feel concerned or if he should shoo her away.
"Er--I think I just got this room," she said while rubbing her eyes wearily. The duplicate key hung to her fingers loosely. "Do you live here?"
"Yes. Since two months ago," he explained briefly.
Probably a roomie. But even though the dorm is a unisex, still, the landlady avoided sending opposite sexes in the same unit. Tezuka was informed about this before he got his key and paid his rent two months in advance. "You must have gotten the wrong room."
"No. This is my room. It's 203."
"But you can't stay here," he said. She just . . .can't. Period. "And where are your bags?"
Her brow furrowed. She steadied herself and glanced to his side. "Why do you have a roommate?"
"No."
She shot a look at him and snapped while pointing, "Listen, hotshot. I'm not in the mood to argue so move your arse from the doorway and let me in. I paid for this, so it's a compromise so move!"
Tezuka supressed a twitch. He restrained from slapping his forehead and shutting the door to her face because 1) he's not that rude and 2) he thinks--knows, rather--that she doesn't look like those types to mess with.
He cleared his throat instead and grabbed her wrist. "We'll have to talk to the landlady."
---
"I'm really sorry," a young guy, Miko--no last name because he thought it sounded cool--probably on his mid-twenties, spoke; his voice sounding at least a bit apathetic. He declared himself as the landlady's nephew and he was currently in charge because the old woman had a refreshing vacation at the Carribean with her new foreigner boyfriend.
What the hell.
"When is she coming back?" Tezuka asked quickly.
"Hey, you bastard! Get your hands off me!"
Miko shot the lady beside Tezuka a disgusting look before turning to him. "With best luck, at least in three weeks."
Tezuka frowned. "Can't you resolve this? She can't stay in my room."
"No man. I don't run the place."
Right. Thanks for the effort, dude.
"She can't stay with me," he said as a matter-of-factly.
"Why're you a raging hormonal bastard or somethin'?"
It takes a hundred elephants to annoy Tezuka Kunumitsu, but this guy had made it through ninty-nine already. He shot him an irritated look.
"I don't want trouble, Miko-san," he spoke patiently.
"Not looking for any. Man, it's no big deal. It's a unisex dorm, right? What's wrong with you?"
"Forget it. Just forget it."
Tezuka left and dragged the girl to his room. Wait--why did he just do that if he wanted to get rid of her?
"Hey, where's the futon?" she fumbled everywhere as Tezuka sat on the couch and rubbed his temples grudgingly.
"Can you please leave? You're going to cause me trouble."
"Listen, jackass. If you don't want me here, leave. I paid for this stupid place, so bear with me if you want. I'm not a fucking rapist so back off."
Tezuka grimaced with the choice of her words. "You're inebriated," he noted when she found the futon inside his closet and spread it on the floor. She slipped under the sheets and closed her eyes.
"So what if I am? Mind your own business."
When Tezuka heard a snore, he rubbed his temples again and sighed. This is seriously not happening to him.
Especially now that exams are approaching and distractions like a verbally abusive roommate was one of the things he wanted to avoid. And he still had taxation under Smith.
Right, he'd worry about her after Smith. He wiped the coffee table clean and threw his garbage on the trashbin. Tezuka grabbed his things and headed for the door. He locked it from inside.
---
So what if he decided to drown her out for four days after her stay in his room. He was evading the problem and he didn't care about it anymore. Perhaps he can just wait for the landlady to arrive and settle everything. Miko was no help either so he didn't bother asking him. In three weeks, exams will be over and he can breath more freely, maybe he'll have enough strength to argue with her by then.
She was preparing a meal and the clanking of metal and the heavy sound of the knife against the chopping board was distracting him. Okay, maybe once or twice, she can be a real help but most of the time, she was a pain in the ass.
"Can you keep it down, please?" Tezuka asked, looking up from the book he was reading.
"Like hell. How would I chop the radishes without any sound?"
She was Makino Yui and he didn't know what brought her to this dorm when in fact, 1) she actually is not working to any establishment near their district, 2) she's not a law student or a university student to any school near the dormitory and 3) he wondered why she didn't even bring ANY clothes with her. She had brought new clothes from Shibuya and his room was littered with undergarments to one side to empty shopping bags the other. This is the reason why he hated having girl roomies.
"Did you run away from home?" he had deduced that much and he voiced this out.
"Do you want this knife to dig on your beautiful face?"
Sure, she was attractive. Pretty. Tall, like a model. But she was foul-mouthed and Tezuka detested her. There was not much doubt about that. And her meals aren't that good-tasting either; he preferred eating outside.
And yes, Tezuka figured she was an alcoholic. Right. He couldn't take this anymore. Five days and he's already giving up.
"If you want to drink, please do it outside," he told her after collecting his books and stuffing them inside his storage one night. Her head was slumped on the coffee table and her long red hair spread out like blood. A bottle of an alcoholic beverage was clutched on her hand.
Tezuka already knew she wasn't listening. When did she ever listen to anything he said anyway? But when he heard a whimper, he turned his head back. Sniff. Sniffsniff. "Waaah!"
"Eh? Er--Yui?" He rushed to her side, even though he knew nothing of what he should do at times like this.
Fuck that, "Don't let your guard down," thing. If you see a girl break down in front of you, let's see what you can do.
He poked her cheek lightly in an attempt to calm her down. What a joke. "Yui."
He was returned, only with more sobs, if not louder.
"He's a bustard!! I tell yoo! Bastaard!"
Tezuka's brow furrowed and he supressed from pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd heard about the tantrums and he had to be ready for them, especially now that he's a roommate with a freaking alcoholic girl. He drank a few times before--tried a shot of tequilla or a margarita or two--but he has never been drunk. THIS drunk. He knows how to limit himself.
"Yui, if you're going to barf the contents of your stomach out, please do it now. I'll help you to the bathroom," his voice was serious. DEAD serious.
"You bastard." She swung the bottle around and it missed Tezuka's nose for only a few inches. "You're all the same! Leaving us and-hic-saying, 'Hey, I'm back! Let's get married!' That's just stooopid--huh? What was I saying again?
"You were saying about something that was stupid."
"Oh, yeah. I say-hic-stooopid!"
Tezuka sighed. This is enough, "Yui, I'm serious. I wouldn't want to clean all the mess if you vomit on the floor."
"Ryuuji," she sobbed and wiped the snot off her nose with her other hand. "I love you. . ."
Yui dropped the bottle on the floor and the alcohol spilled on Tezuka's feet. His socks were soaked. He was about to protest when Yui suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him exceptionally close.
She sobbed harder. "Yoo bastard! Why am I so. . .so--you're just a freaking--freakin' bastard."
Her head dropped to his chest and Tezuka was drenched with her tears and with the alcohol on his feet. "You've said the word bastard too many times tonight. You need some rest."
He waited for her to calm down and settle her emotions. She sobbed on his shirt for a few more moments and Tezuka rubbed her back to help her compose herself. When she stilled, he lifted her up and carried her to the couch.
He cleaned the mess on the floor before he spread the futon in the middle of the room. He tucked her under the sheets. And he should probably just sleep on the couch tonight. Yui might vomit on the futon.
A few hours after Tezuka settled to a comfortable position with one of his feet hanging on the armrest, she did.
---
"What's up, Tezuka-san?" Miyagi nudged him on the shoulder and asked. "You look ghastly. Got any sleep?"
"No," he said grimly while making his way to the laundry shop. Miyagi offered his help since his classes after Kobayashi were cancelled and he had two hours free.
His mouth formed a comical 'o' and he looked like a blowfish. "And what's with this large bag?"
"It's a futon."
"Er--what happened?"
"You don't have to know."
---
When Tezuka returned, she was sitting on the couch while nipping a large pint of ice cream. Tezuka wonders where she was getting all the money she was spending with her spoils.
"Are you wealthy?"
"Ah--okaerinasai. It's from my parent's insurance," she said while swallowing a spoonful. "They died a few years back."
"You don't sound sympathetic," he observed. "But still, I'm sorry to hear that."
"I grew up with my grandparents anyway," she said. "I hardly ever see them and when I do, they're still busy with work. I've constantly waited for them to finish but I've gotten tired later on. I barely know them anymore."
"Isn't that a bad thing?"
Tezuka had already forgotten he was about to lecture her regarding the futon and her drinking habits.
"I guess," she sounded far and unconcerned. "You want some?"
"No."
"Sorry about last night," she said. "And for the things I said--whatever they were. (I couldn't remember)."
"I scoured the whole night," he told her.
"I'm sorry. . ." Tezuka swore he saw a pout.
"It won't happen again."
"It won't. Promise." She had the world's greatest smile. EVER. It could have been toothpaste-ad worthy, he mused. "Oh, yeah."
Tezuka just noticed a handful of shopping bags beside the couch. AGAIN. She rummaged through one bag and pulled out a stuffed animal. It must be a frog. Or probably a green bear. He couldn't tell. She gave it to him. "Thanks for last night."
She pulled another shopping bag and peeked through it. Yui handed it to him. "It's a novel. I figured you'd like it."
Tezuka studied the contents of the shopping bag and pulled a hard-bound book out. It was a John Grisham novel, The Partner. Yui continued, "And since you were taking law, I thought you'd like it."
"Sure," he said with--it was Yui's first time to see it--a smile. "Thanks."
She smiled back and maybe Tezuka saw it too. It was a brief smile, but it was beautiful. And then, she smiled again. It was directed to him and Tezuka gave her a what-look. She spoke, "You should smile pretty often. You look handsome when you do. If you get all serious like that, you'll look older."
Look who's talking. "You've been sober since you came here."
"I wasn't referring to me. I was referring to you."
Tezuka merely shrugged. He brought the frog to the kitchen and placed it on top of the refrigerator. Yui didn't bother to ask why--she didn't want to know either.
o - o - o - o - o
So Yui ran away from home and sought refuge to an apartment unit of a complete stranger. Cute, but still a stranger. It was one of her habits to run away. She hated facing her problems and that must be her weakest point. Maybe because she feared pain and she didn't want to get hurt. Maybe because by running away, she can feel more at peace. She has always been afraid because Yui was never born stronger than people expect her to. She was childish and immature and weak. And that's because no one ever taught her how to stand firm.
First, her parents and then this guy she fell in love with on an inn in Hokkaido and left her after saying "I love you."
Sure, those days in the countryside were the best days she had since she was a child. Makoto Ryuuji was the one who brought that happiness to her with that affair. Call it a fling, or trivial flirting perhaps. She was too happy to care. And too in love to feel concerned.
They met on a bar on Yui's second-night stay on the inn. She was kidnapped by her cousins who brought their boyfriends along and she was the only one left without a partner.
The bar was crowded and rowdy; the usual comfy ambiance where you could barely hear yourself shout. The music was bustlin' and boozin' already when Yui and her cousin's gang of friends found a peaceful table near the speakers and they had to actually yell at the top of their voices so the barternders can take their orders. She wasn't paying attention when the waiter placed six bottles of beer on their table and every hand grabbed each one and none was left to her. Not only were they making her feel so alone but they were also making her feel left out.
This was supposed to be a fun trip! Argh.
Yui turned around angrily, while craning her neck to look for the bartender. Well . . . why does everyone else look like a bartender? Dammit.
"Oh excuse me," she spotted a guy walk past her carrying a tray of bottles and she reached her hand to tap his shoulder.
"Yes?" Or not. He whipped his head back and looked at her. Okay, he wasn't carrying a tray of bottles on his hand. But he looked like a bartender, mind you.
"Sorry, I was just--"
I tapped your shoulder because you looked like a bartender? Oh no, scratch that. You were carrying a tray of bottles of beer and I knew you were a bartender. Great.
"Well, I was just. . .well sometimes, there are people you gravely mistaken as somebody else."
Yui can feel the ground shake and ready to swallow her whole.
"And?" the guy turned his full attention to her now. His eyes were a deep shade of blue and his hair was dark and ran past his ears. He looked rather cool.
"And. . ." she swallowed a lump in her throat. "You realize they're not really those people you were expecting them to be."
"And?"
"A--All right," she shrugged her arms in defeat. "I mistaken you as a bartender. It's not fair."
The guy smiled. It was a boyish smile and Yui instantly thought she saw an angel. In a crowded and rowdy bar. And probably in this crowded and rowdy bar where Metallica was invented and it threatened to shatter their eardrums. "Finally an honest reply."
"They're not your friends, right?" he pointed his thumb to the group of Yui's cousins and co. and gave her another smile.
She shrugged. "Probably not."
The guy held her hand and spoke in a loud voice. "Tell you what. I'll bring you to some bar and we'll catch a couple of drinks there? I know another one in this area. They serve mushrooms."
Er--being picked up by a stranger? Not to mention a stranger from a bar where alcohol, the cause of all the babies and STD came from? No, thanks.
"You don't trust me?" he kind of almost shouted.
"No."
"That's good, then." With an unknowing smile, he pulled her out of the bar before Yui could protest.
And then, he brought her to the bar which served mushrooms and beer. The ambiance was a lot peaceful there. The music was mellow and seductive and a few tourists crowded the small tables. Yui and this guy-with-a-boyish-smile took seats on the counter and ordered two bottles of beer.
"I'm Makoto Ryuuji," he said while bringing the bottle of beer to his lips.
"Yui Makino."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-eight." She was twenty-one, fresh from university and having a perfect time to enjoy post-college life when no pressures of the coming exams are laden on your shoulders.
Ryuuji chuckled at this and took a long drag from his drink. "You're not really good at lying, you know."
So what if Yui thought she had fallen for that amazing smile and that amusing chuckle he had? Or that time when he kissed her full on the mouth and pretended they were newly-weds because he was running short of cash and they got free beers? Or maybe that time when they exchanged "I love you" on the shore on their last day in Hokkaido. She knew then, even if it sounded illogical and childish and she knew she was jumping headfirst, that Ryuuji is the one she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.
They actually dated for a couple of months when they went back to Tokyo together and Yui knew her feelings had developed only further. She knew he felt the same way. But then, he left for Germany for two freaking years without calling her or whatnot.
She waited for him and all he could return was a smile and "I'm sorry."
Maybe she ran away because she wanted to think things through. She wanted to settle her emotions first before looking at his face and giving in to him that easily. Two years is never a joke.
And maybe. . .just maybe, she can reconsider that proposal he made at the airport that day. Just maybe, she can forgive him after leaving her when she felt like an abandoned kitten left astray. What would have happened if she said yes and instead of moping around on an apartment of a random guy, they were making preparations for the wedding and Yui already had the measurements for her bridal dress.
And maybe, these were all just wishful thinking. Then again, it was still her choice.
o - o - o - o - o
She didn't know why he was holding her hand, or why she was holding his. She didn'care. Whatever the reason was, she didn't need to know. All she just wanted is the feel of his fingers on her hands, rubbing unfamiliar patterns on the surface of her skin. Suddenly, she felt at ease.
She closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence. They sat on a bench; Yui didn't know where it was. . .a train station, perhaps? The tracks were there, but the train is gone. Tezuka was taller for a only a few inches, but she guessed that's just fine. He leaned back and let his head fall on top of her hair.
He smelled good; like chocolate and champagne. He smelled so nice; she just wanted to bury her face on his chest so she can smell him forever. His hair was soft, like wool, and she wanted to touch it with her hands. His shoulders were broad and she figured if she gave him a hug, she wouldn't reach her hand with the other. She wanted to try it out. . .
"Yui," his voice was soft, like velvet. It sounded really, really nice. She wanted to hear it again.
"Yui." She felt his warm hands touch his cheeks. She didn't want the warmth to go away.
"Hm? Don't make it go away. . ."
"Yui, if you want to sleep, sleep on the futon. I have to use the coffee table."
She snapped her eyes open. No rail tracks. No bench. No hands. Well, there was still no train, anyway. She pushed herself up from the cold surface of the table and rubbed her eyes.
"Okaerinasai, Tezuka-san."
"Okaeri."
He sat across her on the couch and spread the clutter on the coffee table. Yui watched his every move.
"Exams approaching?" she asked while examining the nearest book to her reach. She cringed when she read the first article and slid it back to his master.
"Yeah so please don't bother me."
"I'm not doing anything."
"That's good."
". . ."
"Why law?"
He'd said it to too many people too many times. "Money and idealism. You want utopia, and at the same time, you earn a lot of money."
"Nobody can change the world."
How cynical. "I am nobody then?"
"But you can't change the world."
"Why not?"
"Because you can't prove it. And you're just a guy."
"What if I can?"
Yui contemplated for a moment before speaking. "Then, I'll leave you at peace."
"That's a deal."
---
"Tezuka-kun?" Yui asked while glancing over to where he sat, his portfolio was propped open on the table and some of the files were pulled out. He studied them each. Law must be a tedious job, She stood on the kitchen while waiting for the water to boil. She had offered to make him coffee--no sugar, no cream--and prepare a piece of blueberry cheesecake she bought from the cake shop this morning. She wanted him to try it.
"Yes?"
"Would you be lonely if I'm gone?"
They've been together for almost two weeks but it seemed a lot longer. Tezuka had gotten much used to her being around. "How would I know such things?"
Yui shrugged as the kettle whistled and she pulled it out of the flame. "I was just wondering if you would miss me if I go away."
She set the cup of his coffee on the table and she handed him the cheesecake. He murmured a "Thank you," before digging in to his food.
She sat beside him and pressed a pillow to her chest. "Would you be lonely?"
"I don't think so."
"That's probably a 'no,' right?"
Tezuka shrugged wearily. He sighed. Kobayashi is full of shit. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. Exams are the day after next and he should at least rest for a day before the exam. He wouldn't let his guard down this time. He'll do his best and prove to Kobayashi that he has some freaking "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!!"
He leaned on the backrest of the couch and closed his eyes. Yui had fallen asleep to his side and he didn't realize his head had dropped on top of hers. Before he knew it, he was snoring.
---
"If it's wrong, it's wrong. It can't be slightly right. It's just plain wrong. . .Oh my God, I'm gonna get killed. . ."
Miyagi was muttering to himself when Tezuka reached the hallway. Exams were over and he knew he did fine. He was sure he was going to make it through, but still not too confident. Don't let your guard down. Not yet.
After comforting his friend who was on the edge of his own doom, Tezuka hailed a taxi straight home. Ha, I'm starting to change the world, Yui. Just wait and see.
The doorknob clicked and the door opened quickly. The lights were out, but the rays of light from the large windows reflected the room a white glow.
"Okaeri--Yui?" he called out but she didn't answer. Maybe she went to shop for something? He closed the door behind and proceeded to the bathroom, where he knocked. Still, no answer. She's probably at the grocery right now.
Right. Tezuka went to the kitchen and fished the fridge for something to drink. And then, he spotted the small frog on top of it with a scroll between it arms. He pulled it out of the frog's grasp and unrolled the paper.
Tezuka,
I take back what I said last night. I surrender. You can change the world. I've moved away--back to where I came from, so don't worry. I keep my promises and I won't bother you anymore. Thanks for taking care of me. Those two weeks have been fun. And best luck with your exams! They're probably finished when you read this but anyway. You've reaped too much and you certainly will sow more.
Love,
Yui
Tezuka read the letter again. And again. And again until the words finally sank in. He folded the paper to a neat square and sat on the couch.
Okay, maybe Yui's scent was left behind and he could smell the traces of her cologne on the couch. He said it so himself, he wouldn't miss her if she was gone. He wouldn't.
But even if he was feeling hopeful a few moments ago when he walked out of Smith and Kobayashi's torture chamber, it didn't matter anymore. He felt so empty without her presence.
o - o - o - o - o
"Isn't this a bit too much?" Yui asked while pulling her dress up a bit so she can check out her shoes. The bridal gown was stunning and the shoes were simply. . .beautiful. She loved them.
And maybe it was the right choice to pick Ryuuji after all. He came from a very functional family and the way he looks at you--according to Arisu, her best friend slash wedding planner--he looks as if he was saying, "Hold my hand. I will protect you."
She said it with shiny eyes; it made her look like a penguin in cloud nine.
"So," Yui started while occupying the divan on the store's large dressing room. "What happened when I was gone?"
"He attempted to commit suicide."
Yui snapped a warning look and Arisu immediately covered it up with, "Of course not. But well, it was implied because he said that he can't live without you and I thought. . .well, anyway. You were gone for two weeks and you think we'll let you off the hook that easily?"
"Er--yes?"
"No. Come on. You'll have a bridal shower. There will be boys! Boys!"
"Yeah," Yui scoffed. "Boys who dance as if they were rubbing their thing to some random girl like they were rabbits in heat."
"Do not!"
"That just sucks."
"Of course not," Arisu waved her hand dismissively. He pulled Yui's arm and hauled her upward. "You're gonna enjoy it. I swear."
Arisu pushed her back to the change room behind the curtain and with a tired sigh, she slipped the wedding dress out and pulled her clothes back on.
---
It wouldn't be cruel and insensitive to invite him, right? She wanted him to come--or wanted to see him, rather--but still. He could meet her friends and she can introduce him to Ryuuji. Tezuka was the one who took her in and watched out for her, right? It wouldn't be that bad.
So when she rang the buzzer, no one answered. She knocked twice but still, nothing. Maybe he was out. . .for a walk or something. He didn't have classes at this time. Maybe he changed schedules?
But when the doorknob clicked and the door quickly opened, Yui posed for a smile to greet him. "Hi, Tezuka-san."
His eyes were cold--a bit scary if she might add. Maybe he wasn't feeling very well. "Tezuka, are you all right? Are you sick?"
She voiced out, concerned. He snapped. "No, I'm fine."
His voice was firm and Yui knew better than to talk back. "How are you doing? It's been over a month. Sorry for not calling."
"I'm fine."
"How are you changing the world?"
". . ."
Yui gave him a brief smile before handing the square envelope to Tezuka. "Its my wedding. With Ryuuji. It would be nice if you come. I can tailor you a tux if you want."
She patted the broadness of his shoulders and smiled again. "Do you know you have such broad shoulders? I figured that if you hug me, you can hide my face in your chest."
She chuckled nervously and ran a hand through her hair. She frowned worriedly. "Why aren't you talking. Please say something. Don't get all serious; you'll look older."
". . ."
"Uhm--so," she said while evading his eyes. She didn't want to look at them anymore. "I think I should go."
She turned back, but before she can step away, he stopped her.
"I can't change the world."
Yui turned to look at him, her brow furrowed, her eyes far away.
"I'm just a man, how silly."
She frowned, maybe because she didn't like what she was hearing. Or maybe because a part of her wanted it so she can try and let him bury her head on his chest. No, she couldn't do that. She loves Ryuuji and they're about to get married. Tezuka is just a random guy she met and shared an apartment unit with. No single string, in any way, attached them together. They were plain roommates and are therefore, nothing more.
Thus, following that logic, Tezuka is just another stranger. She didn't know a single thing about him. Did he wear braces, or contacts? What were his hobbies? Where did he attend high school? Come to think of it, she knew nothing at all about Tezuka Kunumitsu.
Right. Logic is such a pain in the ass.
Without a word, she turned. And as she walked away, Tezuka felt his heart slowly tearing apart. He didn't know why, but a part of him wanted to pull her wrist and squeeze her in his arms until she tells him to stop because she couldn't breath anymore.
And if that's what he wanted to happen, logic might suggest that Tezuka Kunumitsu is in love with Makino Yui. How annoying.
Right. Logic is indeed, a pain in the ass.
o - o - o - o - o
Okay, so maybe he ran a few miles when the taxi broke down in the middle of the highway. So what if he did that because he thought he was running late to HER wedding and ghastly images flooded his mind--like 1) she was kissing another man or 2) she was hugging a different guy--while he was at it? Running is fine. It's a good exercise, really.
And what if he barged inside the hotel where she was staying and asked the staff to move aside and give him way because he wanted to see her? He didn't care about anything illogical right now. He was acting on pure instinct, and he was hoping reality wouldn't bite him off the arse any moment now.
She was beautiful, he had to admit. Her hair flowed freely to her shoulders as if it actually had life. The dress fit her perfectly and she looked equally stunning.
"Tezuka?!" she screamed. Thank Kami for soundproofing. "What are you doing here?"
Okay, she must admit that she had been disappointed when he told her a few moments ago that he can't be at the wedding because he had important things to take care of. Or maybe she hated the idea of him gone. She didn't know if she can make it. Since she was a child, she had depended solely to herself and very rarely to others. But since Tezuka came, she felt as it she couldn't move when he's gone or when he's away.
What a pain.
"Didn't I tell you I can't change the world?"
"Wh--what are you talking about?"
'Don't let your guard down.' Screw that. Tezuka's wall had already been broken down since Yui came to his doorstep that afternoon.
"I can't change the world," Tezuka repeated. He walked a step closer to her and without warning he pulled her close. "So you're free to bother me now. Don't mind causing me any trouble. I just want you back."
". . ."
"You scent on my apartment lingers and no matter how much I laundry the pillowcases or the bed sheets, it's still there. How annoying."
Yui closed her eyes, as she listened to his heart beat. "Tezuka. . ."
"Hn?"
"Do you know you have broad shoulders?" Tezuka smiled, and then he felt at ease again. He pulled her closer, as much as he can possibly be given a chance to.
And he knew that being with this girl is what he wanted all along.
END
o - o - o - o - o
OMAKE
o - o - o - o - o
"So," Yui spoke uncertainly. "Are you sure about this?"
Tezuka was a few feet down. He had jumped out of the window from the second floor a few moments ago and he was trying to convince her to jump down after him. Hurry, they'll catch us.
"Shouldn't we just take the stairs like normal people do?"
"We'll get caught and they'll think I'm kidnapping you."
"Isn't this kidnapping already?"
"It's not, so jump now. Be careful."
"Who can be careful if you're jumping a more-than-ten-feet height?"
"You," he suggested with a smile. "Come on, your dress is nice and fluffy, it won't hurt."
Yui glanced down and saw Tezuka with his arms spread out as if trying to catch her. He looked as if it read, "If you get hurt, we'll get hurt together." If she didn't see him like that, she would have given up.
She stepped on the window sill and leaned to a crouch. Well . . . she didn't care how she falls. It'll be all downhill from there, anyway.
And then, she jumped. And Tezuka caught her. Well, not quite.
"Aah! I sprained my leg. It hurts! It hurts!"
Oh. Shit.
---
It's not a crime to run away, she mused, as long as it's with Tezuka. Everything will be just right.
He was carrying her on his back and they were walking down a random street. They didn't know where it would lead them; they didn't care. Whether it was a shopping district or to some other town or to some other place, even if it wasn't Japan anymore where they were the only two people who understood each other, as long as they were together, it didn't matter anymore.
"Tezuka," she spoke, her breath on his neck.
"Hm?"
"Aren't we eloping?" she asked.
"No, we're not," he said. "It's called 'walking together to somewhere we're not really sure of.' How is that?"
"But isn't that the same thing?"
o - o - o - o – o
A/N: The ending didn't satisfy me much . . . but I guess it turned out fine. I made this story for nine hours in front of my computer, impromptu. I slept at freaking four a.m. because I was afraid the plot will be gone the moment I wake up the next morning. But it was worth it (I think). Leave a review guys! I want to know about your opinions. This is my first Tezuka-OC one-shot and I wanna read some constructive criticism.