A/N: Feedbacks are greatly appreciated!
TITLE: Ancient
PART: One-Shot Drabble
AUTHOR: Simply Kim
PAIRING: Atobe Keigo x Tezuka Kunimitsu
FANDOM: Tennis no Oujisama
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything except this... fic. ;
NOTE #1: Blah or Blah is for emphasis. /Blah/is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). /Blah/ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. Blah is for thoughts or random Japanese words.
ANCIENT
"What is that?"
Tezuka Kunimitsu started at the almost acidic tone that sounded behind him. Turning around, his eyes traced the line straight to where his companion was pointing and his lips quirked up once before a frown marred his forehead. "A radio cassette player."
"Well, what is that doing in your room?"
"I own it."
"I know, I know... but why do you own it? It's so... old-fashioned!"
He sighed, knowing for sure that he would feel really awkward just turning this on after this episode. "I like it. It's useful." He said defensively, walking over to pick it up and put it away for a while – at least, until his guest left.
"Well, radios are useful, but we have high-tech gadgets now, why not buy one of those that not only has fm but am too?"
"Keigo." Tezuka sighed, pushing his precious radio into an empty slot in his box of trinkets. "I said I like it, and that's explanation enough." He muttered, eyes guarded. "Besides, it's my grandfather's keepsake."
Atobe Keigo, formerly lost in his typical aristocratic distaste, suddenly halted his stream of words and gazed at him thoughtfully. "You mean you've had that since you were really young?"
He nodded, a reminiscent smile echoing on his lips. "Yes. Jii-sama gave it to me when I graduated from elementary school. We used to listen to music together and talk over tea."
Atobe raised his brow. "Let me guess, old traditional music from the station I remember him talking so animatedly about."
Tezuka nodded, remembering that day. It was when he went off to fetch some tea leaves from the kitchen. Upon coming back, he saw Atobe's pasted on gracious smile as he listened to something his grandfather was saying.
Quietly, the other man straightened his legs, encompassing the full area in front of him, his bare toes touching the glass where Tezuka displayed his fishing paraphernalia. "Hmm, he was a good man, your grandfather."
It was the quiet tone that made Tezuka regret bringing up the past. Even if he was the actual grandson, his grandfather, the dojo master, was more of the same to Atobe. After all, he had been visiting since they were in their last year of junior high and was practically part of the family. There were times then that he felt jealous of the attention the old man gave to the Hyoutei brat, but he couldn't help feeling warm as those same set of eyes gazed back at him with quiet pride.
With a small smile, he joined Atobe and sat beside him. Stretching out the same way he did and leant back against the side of his bed. "He was, wasn't he?" He said softly. "He did a lot of things for us, didn't he?"
"Aa."
There was a long moment of silence before Atobe let his head rest on Tezuka's shoulders, his eyes gazing up at the seemingly towering fishing poles. He felt small, Tezuka knew, for he felt the same way. He just had no idea if they were feeling small because of the poles or because they were humbled by the memory of the great man who had done magic in both their lives.
"Sorry."
He was more or less surprised, Tezuka had to admit. It was rare that Atobe decided to apologise for his words or actions, but he did just that. "What for?" He asked curiously.
"Saying that about the radio."
It made him chuckle, a deep sound emanating from his throat. Gently, he bumped the side of his head against Atobe's, earning him a growl of discomfort. As the slight pain faded, he stared at the reflection they made on the glass casing of his other prized possessions.
"You didn't know."
"That's why I'm saying sorry."
It was already ten years since Atobe started making his so-called 'home visits', ten years since he accepted his role in the other man's life, ten years since his senior year at Seishun Gakuen's junior high school department.
Ten years, he and Atobe had been under the protection and care of his grandfather.
But it had only been a month after the death of the Tezuka clan patriarch.
The wound was still raw for both of them, but he knew that Atobe also knew they had to move on. That was why he was packing everything in his room and his partner was helping him – or at least, pretending to help him.
"Na, Mitsu."
"Hmm?"
"You're going to bring the radio with you, right?"
"Un."
"Would you mind listening to jii-sama's favourite station with me sometimes – over tea?"
Tezuka closed his eyes as he felt Atobe press his lips on his shoulder before resting his head against it once again and smiled.
"I thought you'd never ask."
OWARI