Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis…if I did…well I wouldn't be writing this…then again I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. The fact that I'm writing this story that is, because owning PuriTeni could never be a bad thing.
Disclaimer #2: No PuriTeni character death. Those who have a chance of dying are not original PuriTeni characters. In fact, I probably won't even give them a name…
Disclaimer #3: Yes I realize I am bored and pretty much have no life. But let's ignore that fact right now…pretty please?
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Tezuka Kunimitsu stood at six feet eight. A strong, talented, and highly respected favorite in almost all tennis circuits. He was married, and had one child. A beautiful baby boy addicted to both tennis and the color green.
He thought that for once, he had been able to make a choice, a proper choice, unlike the ones he'd made before. And god…or gods…or whoever the all-powerful guy was, certainly knew that.
Of course, for a stoic man like Tezuka, nothing could ever go right. For a man known for lacking emotion, nothing could ever go right.
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Merely a year after his marriage, his wife divorced him. The celebrated couple was no more. Even the child had been ripped away from him. But he didn't cry then…he would give her the satisfaction of his very first tears.
No…he didn't cry when his grandfather died. Instead he became the new head of the family, vowing to bring success to the Tezuka family. He certainly wouldn't cry now.
He thought back to the other mistakes he'd made. The ones back in the very beginning. Should he have joined the tennis club like that? Should he have abandoned his emotions like that? Should he have left the safer realm, the shelter that his teammates had built for him over the years?
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As he grabbed the racket presented to him by the entire tennis team when he graduated, a burst of adrenaline rushed into his body. He usually reserved this racket for professional games. And although he would replace the wires and grip tape more often than he needed, he would never change the frame. Etched into the racket frame were the blessings of his team members, in particular, his new pillar and the sadist who people rarely heard from.
He'd seen Echizen recently. He remembered…he almost smiled when he saw him…almost. Of course, he would be the only person able to get in the newspapers just for smiling, just for crying, just for doing any of those stupid things the magazines desperately wanted him to do, things he swore he'd never do.
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Tezuka Kunimitsu rarely thought of the past…well the past being anything after the tennis club, but before now. He always thought of his middle school tennis team, the unbeatable, unbreakable, undefeatable team he'd once played for.
And of course, the people who'd played with him.
He remember his vice-captain who usually took on more work than he was supposed to because Oishi was always so worried that Tezuka would burn out from all the work.
He remembered the nasty concoctions he'd seen and just barely survived. That stupid Inui…why did he give that guy permission to test it on Seigaku anyways? Another stupid choice to add to the list.
Oh, and of course the lanky junior power players who were constantly getting into fights. He would never admit it out loud, but those two definitely made him chuckle every once in a while.
In fact, the team sadist, aka tensai, had caught him chuckling once at the junior players fighting over who wouldn't have to drink Inui Juice. Tezuka, of course, threatened to make Fuji an alternate for the next 10 games if anyone found out.
Oh there were so many people he still remembered…
There were so many people he actually cared about…
But above all, his new pillar shone brightly above all the others, as though he were permanently captured in the Pinnacle of Perfection that he had so wonderfully mastered.
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Yes, the biggest mistake in his life was graduating middle school. His biggest mistake was going to England…without telling Echizen Ryoma just how he felt for him.
His fingers wrapped around the racket, where Ryoma's name was etched, carved, set in a solid gold sheet. Momentarily he let himself smile…what Ryoma gone through, to get Atobe involved in this? Then, he felt tears roll down his cheeks. What was this feeling? Why was he crying? He hadn't cried when his grandfather died, he hadn't cried when his wife divorced him, leaving him with nothing but his stupid money and even stupider fame.
He switched hands…holding the racket in his left hand for the first time in years.
And for the first time ever…he noticed a small etch under Ryoma's name.
Under closer inspection, and by closer I mean a magnifying glass, he noticed that the tiny etch was indeed a heart.
As his tears hit the floor making an enormous sound, a smile spread across his face. And for the millionth time that day he was so glad the press didn't know where he lived.
And then, of course, the thought passed his mind, that maybe Syusuke had become a journalist. That would be hell on earth…but still; Syusuke had the decency to keep this moment to himself even if he did see it, right?
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Miles away, under the warmth of a 1500 thread count comforter and a sleepy cat, and even sleepier person stretched, yawned, and got up, showing his gorgeous neko eyes to anyone who happened to be annoying him this early in the morning.
He felt as though somewhere, a certain someone, had awoken their true potential as a person that day. Whatever that meant, all he knew was something special was going to happen that day.
Something special, something new…
Instantly he thought of a humble Monkey King and started laughing once again…just as he did last night.
Except last night's laugh was more bittersweet. Laughing at the mere thought that his beloved Buchou just might love him back…
Today was going to be very special indeed.
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Miles away, a certain tensai lay on his back, slowly digesting that day's information.
Miles away, a certain tensai debated whether or not to take advantage of the foolishness his former teammates had shown that day.
Miles away, a certain tensai, closed his eyes and smiled.
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Atobe stood smiling, admiring his immense wardrobe. Somewhere in his mind, he wondered what Tezuka would look like in these clothes, as they were currently about the same height right?
He looked towards the back, at the lone Seigaku jersey that he'd received from a trade years ago. He pulled it out, and traced his fingers through the cloth. Normally this cheap cloth would disgust him, like everything else that wasn't pure satin or silk. As his fingers lined the tag, a faded name peeked out from the overly cleaned cloth.
It read Echizen Ryoma.
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Please vote on which pairs you would like!
Tezuka X Ryoma
Tezuka X Atobe
Tezuka X Fuji
Ryoma X Atobe
Ryoma X Fuji
OT5
Other
Wow.
Please review!
Oh I'm thinking about changing my name…it's going to be Rose-chan or something. Tell me if you like the name!
Or maybe I should make it Rose-chan-chan…that sounds cute.
Hmm Rose-tan? Rose-tan-tan? Help me out here!
And please review )