Author's note: Ok, so here's the deal. Because this takes place after the Broken Smile timeline, one of my other stories, it's obviously an advantage to you if you've read it. Because then you'll know who Tezumi is already. But in case you don't, she's Fuji's girlfriend. Oh, and some of this might overlap with one of the Broken Smile sequels, I don't know. If I ever get down to writing it. But, well, for the time being...enjoy.

BURDEN

Fuji knew.

Fuji knew Tezuka thought having Tezumi around while they were still struggling in tennis was a burden.

He knew that the stoic captain thought students in junior high school--especially those students who were regulars in the school's tennis club--should not spend time dating.

But Fuji also knew that Tezuka was wrong.

"Ne, Tezumi!"

The girl glanced questioningly in the direction of the boys' tennis courts, on her way back to her own, where she practiced with the girls' club.

"Wait for me after you finish practice," Fuji called out cheerfully, ignoring the disapproving look he knew was on his buchou's face. "Remember, wait for me!"

Tezumi, being the understanding girlfriend she was, only looked heavenward for a second before groaning, "I've waited for you every single day, Fuji. What makes you think I'd forget? Now get back to your training." She walked off.

A big smile on his face, Fuji strode right by Tezuka, commenting, "Physical exercises now, right, Tezuka?" He looked the taller boy right in the eye. He didn't want to show that he acknowledge his captain's sterner-than-usual gaze.

Fuji didn't avoid it.

But neither did he allow himself to be affected by its presence.

"Aa."

It was the last phase of their afternoon practice, physical training. After all the technique improvements had been made and all the practice matches had been held, there would come laps, push ups, sit ups…

Fuji didn't question why it was so. He just knew that he had to improvise, get through it all while his legs were still shaking from running after so many of Kaidoh's Snake shots or his arms were trembling from Taka's power balls.

Sometimes he did wonder why his muscles still moved.

Screaming, of course. But they moved.

Fuji sometimes thought it a miracle.

And after all that had been gotten over with--Fuji admitted the torture was important to an all-rounded tennis style--Tezumi would be waiting at the gate with a bottle of ice cold water and a towel, her own hair matted from perspiration.

"No wonder everyone complains that your arms are too skinny," she'd grumble. "Build up some muscle like any other normal tennis player, for goodness's sake."

But then, she'd walk home with him.

This day, Tezumi was late. Her club had some announcements, Fuji heard. He therefore took his time changing, in no particular hurry. He changed in the clubhouse, even though he knew…

"Fuji."

"Hm? Tezuka."

Fuji knew the buchou had something to say. But he didn't mind. Perhaps he, Fuji, had something to say, also.

"Fuji, the Nationals are coming up."

"Yes, it's exciting, isn't it?"

"Hn." Tezuka shut his racket back into his bag. "They are approaching quickly. The club needs to concentrate."

He sounded serious, as usual. Solemn like the captain and leader he was. Serious and solemn and…mechanical.

"That's true," Fuji agreed pleasantly. "But we mustn't put too much pressure on ourselves, Tezuka. We should still try to balance out the other aspects of our lives."

The other brunette didn't contradict him. Re-tying the laces of his shoes, Tezuka picked up his tennis bag and headed out of the club house. "Hn."

Undaunted, Fuji followed, laughing. "It's true," he insisted. "It's much more relaxing to have something to take my attention off tennis for a little while…"

Tezuka would think that scandalous, probably.

"Like my cacti, like photography, like Tezumi…" Fuji paused, waiting for the other's reaction.

"Hn."

"It makes things different, having someone special. It's quite something to know that someone's always there to support you, no matter what, no matter when or why," he persisted. "It changes your whole life," he said softly.

"Hn."

Opening his eyes, Fuji grinned. "Maybe you need someone special in your life too, Tezuka," he suggested playfully.

"Excuse me, Fuji, I must go. I plan to train more before it gets dark." Without looking back or waving, the taller of the two changed direction towards the school gates.

"Saa…" Fuji sighed after him. The boy ahead stopped walking. "Is that all you're going to do, Tezuka? Play tennis?"

"I try to utilize my time, Fuji, to the full extent. Now excuse me." Tezuka left.

If Fuji had ever been in the habit of sneering, he would have sneered now. He watched the retreating figure of his captain, whom all respected, all feared, and all treated as though he were a god.

He might as well have just been an arm and a tennis racket.

It would have made little difference.

If one day, you didn't have tennis, what would you be?

Fuji doubled back to the courts, to meet up with his 'special someone'. "Ready to go, Tezumi?"

The girl wiped her forehead. "Just a minute. I want to get some water."

"Hai," Fuji said promptly, taking out a bottle right on cue from behind his back.

"Thanks."

He watched her drink.

"Doshite, Tezuka?"

"She distracts you."

"Saa…I'm sure I can manage…"

"You alone can decide what you do. All I will say is not to put unnecessary weights on your own feet."

Fuji didn't feel angry.

Fuji felt a little sorry for his captain, for being who he was.

For being what he was.

But there wasn't much Fuji could do to help.

The Pillar of Seigaku would just have to figure out on his own, one day, that he too needed a pillar to hold him up.

Then maybe, just maybe, he'd cease to be just an arm and a tennis racket.

"Ok, I'm ready. Let's go." Handing the bottle back, Tezumi led the way out of school.

Fuji discreetly glanced at her, once in a while, as they made their silent way back home.

It was true that she took up much of his time. Maybe, if he had done as Tezuka had said, if he had called it off with her and put all his time into tennis, he would be a better player.

Maybe, if he practiced as Tezuka did, he would gain the same amount of power, and even more skill.

Maybe, if he was as motivated to win as Tezuka was, then he really would win. Against Tezuka, even.

But if he, Fuji, lived as Tezuka did, then he--and this time there was no 'maybe'--then his life would just be one big tennis ball.

Just as Tezuka's was.

It was true that Tezuka was the better player, the better leader, the better…just better.

It was also true that Tezuka was more well-known, more equipped for a future dazzling career, more likely to conquer time and be known as the greatest tennis star ever, more…just more.

But it was equally true that he had less friendship, less laughter, less love, less…less life.

In many ways, Tezuka was so much more than Fuji.

At the same time, he was so much less.

"Hey, Fuji…"

"Yes, Tezumi?"

"Are you sure I'm not bothering your practice? Tezuka doesn't seem too happy whenever I'm around…"

"He just looks that way, Tezumi. He doesn't really mean it."

"Ok, then. I just don't want to be a burden to you."

"It's fine, really." I smiled. "I want you there."

Yes, perhaps Tezuka was right, perhaps love was a burden, but…

Only with my hands tied can I lift the sky.

Only with this blindfold over my eyes can I see past the sun.

Only with my legs chained…can I run forever.

Perhaps someday, hopefully, for the captain's own sake, Tezuka would have this burden too.