Diclaimer: Work of fiction, no characters belong to me and I do not make profit out of this.
I denied you, so here we are.
His cheek felt hot and hurt a lot. He was sure that it would later leave a nasty bruise and the cheek itself would be badly swollen, not to mention the possible pain that would surely follow the swelling for the next few days. After taking a shaky breath to calm himself down Ryoma glared sideways at Tezuka and spit out the mix of blood and saliva.
"Feel better now? Or you want to do more?" the corners of Ryoma's mouth curled up a bit.
Tezuka's nostrils widened and the tips of his left hand twitched, the feeling of flesh hitting flesh probably still there. He then curled his fingers together and allowed his hand to slowly come down and fall lifelessly by his side.
The young emerald-haired man tch-ed quietly and carefully touched his bruised cheek with the tips of his fingers. "Damn it, hurts like hell. Thank you Captain, now I'll definitely return to the team." He licked the right corner of his mouth and threw a look around.
Tezuka said nothing – he simply stared at the smirking man in front of him. He once respected the younger for his bravery, boldness and life energy that seemed to ooze out of him. But now, now only the bitter aftertaste of disappointment and letdown remained behind from that admiration. How wrong had he been for trusting this child, this boy.
"How can you do this?" his voice was quiet, even and void of emotions. It was a question he had been mulling over for months, weeks and days himself.
Ryoma seemed to freeze, his eyes pointedly looking somewhere in the distance. He breathed the dusty air slowly in and out and then, as if he had just woken up, covered his face with the palm of his left hand. "Because I no longer have anything to lose. Because what you, what all of you, what me to do is not what I want to do."
The youth tilted his head back and stared at the dirty ceiling of the small room; his hair now revealing his face fully, the golden tinted eyes had lost their life, their energy. Ryoma stretched out his hand, reaching for the ceiling, but never reaching it. He clenched his fingers together and stayed like that.
"You ruined my life Tezuka. And they laughed at it." he stated, voice barely over a whisper and then spread his finger open again.
Tezuka stiffened. The coldness that suddenly started to pulsate through his veins made him unable to move. The feeling was vaguely the same as being trapped in your own body, but this time it was a willing thing.
There was nothing the man could say or do, noting that would change Ryoma's mind, nothing that would show just how sorry he was, nothing that would serve as an equal for what he had done that damned night. He was insane, yes, he admitted that. That night, that night when Ryoma finally showed his face in the clubroom, after months of being lost, Tezuka just simply and purely snapped. Something inside him had welled up and released itself from the restrains that Tezuka himself had put it in. And he did something terrible to the child, the boy that he had admired.
"I…" he started, "That night I…"
"Shut up." A hiss broke past Ryoma's lips and he turned to Tezuka fully, eyes filled with smoldering hate and hurt that would never leave them again. "You have no right to justify yourself! No right to make me stay! Or what, you want to hit me again?" he laughed out loud and tilted his head to one side.
The anger once again swelled inside Tezuka for reasons unknown. The same beast from before was slowly waking up inside him again and just like before, he didn't know how to control him.
As if sensing something bad the emerald-haired youth took a few hurried steps back, grabbing a lone chair with him and putting it between himself and his captain. His expression held something between fear, disgust and the remembrance of what had happened the last time.
The bespectacled man covered half of his face with his right hand. "What do you want from me?" he sounded tired, so very tired and sick of all of this.
Ryoma narrowed his eyes. He clutched on the backrest of the chair harder. "I want you to forget about me. Forget about that twisted idea of yours; forget about what happened between us. Forget me."
Before Tezuka could do anything else, even as much as breathe out a weak reply, Ryoma had already turned around and opened the door. He threw one more glance back at the man he once respected, liked to some extent even and then left, leaving behind only the broken silence and unanswered questions.
He dashed through the school grounds not noticing anything that was around him, nor looking back. Everything that had happened in these grounds, all the memories, whether they were god or bad, everything was better left forgotten now.
Ryoma swore to never talk about what Tezuka had done to him – it would only hurt him and his lover. And right now he didn't need more to deal with, the memories alone were enough to keep him awake in night and shivering from the touches that still burned his body. Keigo had a hunch already about what had taken place that evening. It was impossible to ignore what happened to your dearest during the dark hours of the day when all the demons come out to play.
But still Ryoma didn't talk. And Keigo didn't ask. Because they both knew that saying it out loud would only make things worse and right now, now when things are as bad as they are, they didn't need it.
He stopped, catching his breath. The sounds that started to suddenly flood from all over seemed so foreign and new to him all of a sudden. Like he hadn't heard them clearly until now. But he had. Whenever he was with Keigo he heard and saw the world with different color and sounds. So why now?
So he was next to the tennis courts, hidden by the huge crown of leaves of the green bushes.
Ryoma recognized some of the voices, voices of those he had once called teammates and friends. But now it was too late for that, too late to play these games of friendship and teamwork. He no longer belonged there; he no longer wanted to belong there.
"Tezuka, what's wrong? You look so pale." The soft timbre of that voice sounded so painfully familiar, but Ryoma didn't have the strength to remember to who it belonged.
"I am fine. I had a talk with Echizen just now, so I am merely a little tired." Tezuka sounded just as uncaring as he had been a little while ago. "Nothing else."
"Wait, Echizen? He came, now?" Momo… Momo had always been a loud one; nothing could match up to his tone of voice and the vivid emotions that flew through it.
More yelling and talking followed and Ryoma decided to merely continue his walk out of this place he had once loved so. It wasn't worth it and he knew it well. If he will win against that battle that was yet to come, he might return once more and laugh in Tezuka's face… But now, now it wasn't worth it.
Nothing was.
"He has serious medical problems, with his eyes it seems." Tezuka's words reached him and Ryoma stopped again, listening in the talk again, "So that's the reason. Just leave him alone."
Ryoma laughed quietly to himself; Tezuka was never the one to keep promises. And he had gotten a bit better at lying too, it seemed. But that didn't matter anymore – nothing mattered anymore. He was finally free of this farce called tennis. He was free from the responsibility of pulling the team out in the light of victory. He didn't have to sacrifice anything anymore.
He was free.
The warm breeze gently caressed his skin and Ryoma slowed down his pace a bit. He had nowhere to rush, no time limits to comply with and no one impress. So he could walk; slowly walk the whole way back to the apartment he shared with Keigo and not worry about being late or running into something he wasn't supposed to run into.
The treatment will only start next week, Keigo won't leave his side then and everything will solely start to work out on its own – or so Ryoma hoped. Nothing was in his way now, so even if everything were to fail, the people who really cared would still be by his side – sight or no sight. In the end, it was all a matter of trust and luck.
"There you are." Ryoma heard the oh so familiar voice say before his right hand was taken a hold of. "I told you to tell me when you go out; I don't want you wandering about alone." Keigo entwined their fingers together and looked down at his lover.
Ryoma rolled his eyes and muttered under his nose, quiet enough for the other to miss the words, "I'm not blind yet, idiot."
Really, even if they turned away from him, even if the treatment won't help, even if he's bound to a life of darkness, even if he will never hold a racket again, all of that didn't matter, since he was free now. Free of obligations, pressure from others and the games that you weren't allowed to lose. Nothing was chaining him down now, nothing except that night. But in time, with Keigo's presence next to him, with those gentle touches and the whispered sweet nothings he will forget that too.
He will simply forget everything.
A/N: This is what I create when I'm in no mood for anything and don't want to write anything else from what I've started. I'm juggling with the idea of finishing my ongoing multi chapter fics and then simply writing only one-shots. But it's only an idea for now.
I will post the next part for the 'We Are' series and a Thrill Pair one-shot soon though. As for the ongoing fics… God knows when I will do something with them.