Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.
This fic was written as response to my friend, Firedragongirl's AtobexTezuka fic. The role's are just reversed and we're thinking of working together more often.
I don't do well with series type fiction, I usually write oneshots, but the idea seemed interesting enough to give it a try.
Few warnings ahead. This is TezukaxAtobe fic.
If you don't like it, click back. It's also rated M for things such as vivid image, [not that I can describe things THAT vividly] and I mean things like blood and smut. I don't know about smut actually, I might if I want to later.
Even if you ask why, I don't know. I've never loved someone besides family in my life. That's why, if this is love, or if it's my idea of self pity I don't understand. But…but what I know is this.
I never wanted this to happen.
"I love you."
He was acting strange, as if something were to happen soon, and these words, these words needed to be said. But was it too early? Or was it too late?
Tezuka could remember Atobe's stare on him with his dark eyes, as if seeking an answer in him. What did it mean? Sometime during his contemplation had the words formed an unbreakable wall, his concentration wavering from the subject every time it held up its defense. I and you he understood. It was pointing to self and the person whom the self was speaking to. It was love. Love was something he wasn't able to grasp and examine, and even if he could, he wouldn't choose to. It was personal, and it was uncomfortable to look at, and to speak about it felt like he was breaking down his own space for the others to intrude into. After all, he was a Junior High student. No matter how mature he looked on the outside, no matter how intelligent he was, love wasn't something you could understand without experiencing it. He couldn't know by studying about it, or even if he felt it, it was a struggle to know what love really was. Or if what he was feeling could really be called love.
That was all the brunette remembered hearing from that particular scene. Those three words were foreign in his ears, as if they weren't meant to be uttered where the wind could sweep it away and carry it without letting it echo in his mind. It was so fragile. This thing called emotion. Everything else was completely white, only outlines showing there were structures and people ahead of him, as if the pale blue of the sky and the glaring orange bulb that settled itself between the smoky fluffs had no meaning. Then there was light, only enough to see the other in front of him; then him running forward desperately before an abrupt darkness. There in his memory the incident was so sudden, so vague, that if not for scene around them, he couldn't even have guessed.
Of course, it may have been better if he didn't know who saved him or what had happened. It wasn't by will that they informed him when he had woken up. He already knew who he was with and could recall that he was pushed. But to have it confirmed was another thing.
They were standing in a sloped area near a department store at the bus stop. Of course, Tezuka remembered that they weren't going to use the bus at all, they had been walking near it after they met coincidentally at the subway under the store. Atobe had been with Oshitari and Kabaji then. The brunette greeted them with a simple nod, and Atobe had been the one to ask for a word with him. He had not known what the smaller one had been doing there, for it didn't seem like the silver haired male who carried himself so regally would be caught in such a dark, musty place. He had to admit though, it did make the place look brighter then it really was. The flickering lights that died down every five seconds on either side of the walls didn't dare compare with…what was it? Oh yes, his prowess… if anything was radiating out of his body, that had to be it.
They hadn't spoken until they had reached the benches for the bus. There had been some kind of longing in the silver haired male's eyes, as if something had been tormenting him. Tezuka couldn't really understand what was going on, but he knew the other looked hurt. The rest was a blur, they were both confused at the time when words had been finally spoken. A second passed by, then it turned into a minute, as the silence which had muted the world around them was rudely interrupted. Atobe who had immediately noticed something wrong with the sound that was approaching had pushed the taller male away and the male had fallen hitting the ground and blacking out. As for the silver haired one, because he had taken Tezuka's standing point, had been struck by part of the swerving car. It had one wheel mounted on the sidewalk, no driver, the door almost off its hinge and wide open with a shattered window.
He had avoided a fatal blow due to the vehicle striking a signpost first. However he was struck by the side of the car and the impact, no matter how broken it already was, had blown the door completely off. There was no word to describe the sound it made as it ripped apart and slammed against the pavement down the sloped path and the untamed vehicle revving itself until the poll bent back dangerously low. He felt like he was the one being ripped apart. There was only red above the silver haired males eyes, as he lay gasping, waiting to see if it were the end. The poll snapped halfway and the sign pelted over him, not even letting him feel the pain as it slammed against his leg. He couldn't even voice out his screams anymore and the car started to free itself as it were alive from the clutches of the broken remains. It tipped to the side, it's frame sending sparks before seeming to spin in circles over to the one laying limply. Fear instantly swept over him, watching what seemed to be death looming closer to him. However, at the last moment, yet another car slammed into the half broken one, sending both flying to the other direction. In his last moments of consciousness, he wondered if he was really saved. Behind the windows of someone's car, someone was also bleeding, screaming in agony. He closed his eyes.
In the two weeks that Atobe had been sleeping, there wasn't a day that Tezuka didn't come to visit him. Always after school until the sun had set earlier on the weekends, he sat there looking lost, not directly at the other's face. He couldn't bare to look or else the guilt would sink back inside him. Atobe could have saved himself…if only he had been paying attention, this wouldn't have had to happen. He didn't dare touch the other's hand either. He was always sitting a good distance from the other, wondering if he should even be there, but at the same time not being able to stand not being there. Him being the only child of a wealthy family, Tezuka wasn't the only visitor, however they respected the brunette wanting to stay, knowing that it was crucial for both the wake and the unconscious.
So when the silver haired one finally opened his eyes, an overwhelming mixed feeling of happiness and fear swept over him. That day Kabaji had been standing at the entrance with the rest of the teammates holding both their racquets like every Monday. Only Hiyoshi wasn't present. The other stirred suddenly, provoking all of them to look his way, and his eyes fluttered open slowly. What was he to say? The other didn't seem to recognize where he was yet. It was to be expected since the accident damaged him quite thoroughly and he had been out for two weeks. Two weeks seemed so long, but short compared to what the other went through.
"Kabaji," he said after a long moment where everyone seemed to be holding their breath not letting even one little movement pass in the white room.
He tried to get up, but Oshitari quickly went to his side gently pushing him back down. "You can't yet, Atobe. I'll explain everything later." He said a faint sweat gracing his cheek. He had been worried perhaps a lot more then most of the teammates, and although his voice was calm, he was shaking visibly.
"Oshitari…why is everyone here…?" he seemed confused, but he realized he was hurt badly so he complied although unwillingly. "Can't you explain now?"
"Atobe."
All of them turned to look at Tezuka who had spoken suddenly. He looked grave, watching over Hyoutei's buchou like it was some kind of an awkward dream. He didn't know if his voice had reached the other, or if it was really safe to assume that the silver haired one had truly woken up. However, his thoughts were cut short by the other's confused words.
"…Ahn? Who are you?"
