Kismet
Author's note: Hi back with second fic…still tezufuji.. shonen-ai, yaoi??(nt sure) thanks to everyone who reviewed the first one, I really appreciated it…
To ruji, Hakudoshi-chan and yamatadragon: Thanks, u guys… I feel happy
To tezukaeiri: I understand that everyone likes to write about Tezuka going to Germany and Fuji angsting behind… maybe because that is the crucial Tezuka-centric part in the anime? . I know it can get predictable after awhile, but for my first attempt, I just had to try it… Still, I appreciate your review! hugs
btw, this fic is not based on Tezuka leaving Fuji behind… BUT it is an important part of the backgrd info… so... .
Disclaimer: I owe nothing but the plot, Konomi-san owes the rest.
Chapter 1
The day had just begun and the first sunrays filtered through the low-lying fog which was a constant companion to Italy's weather. Around a corner of a certain street, in an inconspicuous coffee house, a solitary figure was pensively sipping hot coffee. With one hand, the young man poured a brief rotating arc of white into the black depths, inhaling the rich aroma of caffeine while cradling the mug. With the other, he absent-mindedly flipped through a photo album, one that contained his works. He stopped at a particular sepia photo of an antique and frowned slightly, deciding that there was something off-balance about the angle at which it had been taken. Before he could ponder further, a quick glance at his watch told him that he was just about due for his next assignment. Snapping the photo album shut, the man hurriedly drained off the rest of his coffee and hastened out of the coffee house.
This was how Fuji Syuusuke had been living his life for the past two years. He worked with a photography agency, and had earned himself a reputation as one of the most skilled photographers who currently grazed the society. Day in, day out, Fuji Syuusuke accepted assignments, went to shoot assigned photos and penned the occasional article or two. One of the things he liked most about the job was that he did not have to be cooped up all day in a stuffy office, on the contrary, between assignments; he could freely explore the country in search of inspiration. Much like an unfettered butterfly, Fuji Syuusuke enjoyed the peace, the freedom of it all, but he hated the solitude.
Running a hand through his chestnut colored tresses, Fuji deliberated about the assignment for the day. He had been told to cover a professional tennis team this time instead of the usual architecture or art (somehow all his colleagues assumed he had an artistic flair), and it suited him just fine. In fact, Fuji had once been deeply attached to tennis. Not that he had lost interest, he had just become busier over the years, taking up photography as a professional career, and soon just drifted away from the game which once embodied his prodigal being. But Fuji would still play tennis whenever he could spare the time, which was usually during the weekend where he would practice in an empty tennis court near his apartment. Besides, tennis reminded him of someone he was sure he would never be able to forget in this lifetime.
Fuji vividly remembered those brown, brown eyes, that pair of gold-rimmed spectacles which lent him a distinguished aura of someone much older, and that ice-cold demeanor, all of which were unique to one outstanding individual- Tezuka Kunimitsu. Somewhere in the recesses of his heart, Fuji was aware that he had felt something for the buchou, something more than friendship itself, but he had chosen not to let those ambiguous feelings flower. Yet it was undeniable that it was a main reason why the young tensai had chosen to remain single all these years, even though his attractive looks meant that he had no lack of admirers. Unfortunately, he and Tezuka had grown apart after the latter had left for Germany, and even more so when Fuji chose to move to Italy. It was hard to pinpoint who actually stopped the e-mails first, since it takes two to talk and even more so to stop. In fact, Tezuka probably had no clue that Fuji was currently residing in Italy.
Fuji unconsciously slipped into wondering what Tezuka was doing now, and mentally calculated the time difference between them. He only snapped out of the reverie when he realized that he had reached the doorstep of the tennis centre.
Stepping in quietly, it suddenly hit Fuji that he had been given no details about the team whatsoever. All he knew was that he would have to look for the coach of the team first. Vaguely, Fuji heard the sound of tennis balls and swinging racquets, and he moved in the direction which his ears brought him to. He stood and observed the regulars for a moment, assessing their movements. They were good, but not amazing, and Fuji felt that he might be able to beat them if he tried hard enough. Looking around to see no sign of the coach, Fuji stepped into one of the courts, deciding that the only way to get anywhere was to interrupt a game.
Turning to tap one of the members, Fuji proceeded to ask his question, yet froze when his keen ears caught a familiar whizzing sound headed straight for his head. Perhaps it was a conditioned instinct from that match with Kirihara years ago, or maybe it was just his tensai abilities, but without turning around the slightest bit at all, Fuji raised his right hand and caught the tennis ball in his palm gracefully. The tennis player who had accidentally hit that offending ball looked both stunned and awed at the same time, and tried to stammer an apology. A magnanimous smile grazing his lips, Fuji nodded at the apology, and asked the player where his coach was. Before the player could utter a word, a second person had stepped into the court.
"Aa. You have good reflexes" , a deep voice articulated.
Fuji felt every muscle in his body tense up. He might not have been facing the stranger, but there was no mistaking the authoritative lilt in that voice, or the slight hint of an accent. Trembling slightly, Fuji turned around slowly and raised his head, brushing back the bangs that were obscuring his view. Momentarily, his eyes shot open, registering shock and disbelief.
"…Tezuka?"
The other man's eyes flooded with recognition at both the face and the voice belonging to the man standing before him.
"… Fuji?"
-Owari for now-
2nd chapter coming up soon, but first please review on how this chapter was.. So, go on, click the little review button… :p