Title: Timing
Date: July 14, 2013
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Prince of Tennis characters.
There was a rhythm to everything. The way each event in their lives played out, the relationships that grew and the ones that simply didn't. With Tezuka and Fuji, it was just a matter of getting their timing right.
So, I planned this story months and months ago... Seriously ages ago. I've been attempting to write it, took a break and ended up writing Denial (ages ago amiright?), took another break and now I'm trying to force myself to (hopefully) finish this thing.
Timing
They say that at the moment right before death, life flashes before your eyes. There isn't some sort of conclusive study explaining this phenomenon. Some say that it's a defence mechanism, because the brain can supposedly remember every single moment and detail of one's life since birth. And in that split second of danger, it'll quickly recall every tiny memory in search of any past experience, any past solutions, anything to somehow find a way to survive. Then some say that it's the body's way of diverting our attention from the excruciating pain of death by recalling every single event that ultimately led to that moment. Others think that it's one last second of redemption. A small intermission in time, by looking back at everything that happened in the past and that second to stop and repent for all those memories we'd like to forget... a way to rest in peace.
...10... the piercingly loud screech of tires... It was as if his stomach had dislodged itself in his throat. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't find his voice.
Regardless, there wasn't anything to say. There were never any awkward silences between them. Just a stagnant almost suffocating stillness that left them both feeling nothing. An empty void that they both desperately tried to fill with blank smiles and empty gestures. But for the first time in a long time, they could actually breathe. Like the fog they stumbled into after their first drunken tangled mess had finally lifted. And it left a bittersweet taste in their mouths, because even though they never could love each other... they had an understanding. A secret haven that remained still and motionless, while the rest of the world continued moving on.
"Good luck." A faint, bare whisper. And words that were so sincere, he had to turn away and just recall that always familiar softness to his voice that was so like and unlike a softer one.
And he opened his mouth, but he really couldn't say anything at all.
Then he was met with a smile... A real one. One so genuine that it held none of its usual similarities to the one that haunted his every dreams. A smile so true that for the first time he could see himself reflected in those ochre eyes.
9... the glaring headlights. Blinding halogen lights and nothing else.
There was always something about Fuji Shusuke. Something special... something unquestionably unique. A sort of air around him that just drew his attention, fully and completely. A certain attraction that was undeniable and constant. Nothing short of an enigma, yet so much more. So when Fuji Shusuke stood across from him, eyes so blue and profound, he had to pause for a moment to just soak up the slight almost wistful curve to those polished lips, the way those silken honey brown locks glowed ethereally under florescent lights and the way he held his ground... yet appeared so delicate.
It wasn't unexpected. No... he had seen the bold sunflowers sitting by his mother's bedside... her favourites. It's a wonder they didn't bump into each other sooner. Rather, he wasn't ready. After everything they've been through together, everything they haven't been through together... He wasn't ready. But he was anxious... because he had to be. Because this conversation was so long overdue despite the few chances they had. And for once the timing seemed about right... And... 8...
He wasn't wearing a seat belt... after all, no one ever wore their seat belt in taxis... excuses. He let his guard down. Besides, it was only a short distance to the Tamagawa River... excuses. He let his guard down.
"Never let your guard down." His grandfather's face was stern, the wooden floor cold. Feeling the older man's grip leave his shoulder, he blinked away the growing soreness in his back and slowly stood up. The greying man was already on guard with his back upright and feet positioned shoulder width apart.
"Come."
And he found himself lying on his back once more, his grandfather's face in front and gazing down at him.
"Better."
Propping himself up by the elbows, he didn't immediately get back up this time.
"Grandfather, you're a lot bigger and stronger than I am."
The aging man offered a rare wrinkled smile, while taking a seat next to him.
"In judo, resisting a more powerful opponent will result in your defeat. You must adjust your stance and evade your opponent's attack by forcing him to lose balance. Then you will discover that I'm not that strong."
He offered his grandfather a quizzical look, "You're the strongest person I know."
"Strength fades." The aging man released a hefty grunt, as he pulled himself off the floor, "Now stand up."
That was right... He just needed to concentrate this time. Getting back onto his feet, he closed his eyes, feeling the grain of the floorboards as he pivoted into a wider stance. And he breathed out... He needed to focus. He needed to keep his guard up. Opening his eyes, he took a broad step and took hold of the thick fabric of his grandfather's keikogi. And he had to remember the older man's words... it was all about adjusting his stance. So, he pivoted once more directing his weight in its entirety to his shoulder, as his face buried deeper and deeper into the thick fabric. Then he had to use his opponent's attack against him... use his own strength against him to knock him off balance. Except...
7... and he could feel his body lunge forward...
He woke up in a cold sweat.
Even though he couldn't recall the nightmare, the feelings of terror still lingered with him. And he remembered to breathe. It was almost ridiculous because he was supposed to be sensible, he was supposed to be level headed, he was supposed to be Seishun Gakuen's former impassive captain. He wasn't that five year old anymore, who'd bring his bed sheets over his head before hesitantly taking a step out of his room, scanning the hallway for any signs of monsters or ghosts before darting as fast as he could into his parents' room... Yet, here he was... a high school freshman with a few months to go before becoming a second year junior. And for the first time in a long time, he was having a nightmare. It was pathetic. And all the restless nights simply because... Because of all the hurt exposed in those deeply azure eyes.
Sitting up in bed, he rested his head against his headboard. And breathed out. He wasn't supposed to be hurt... He just wasn't. It didn't make sense... None of it did. If anything... those once vibrant and captivating eyes were supposed to be hardened... defensive... mocking... apologetic... embarrassed... anything, except that. That was right... he wasn't hurt. He couldn't have been. Because it was his own actions that led to this whole mess. That was right... he wasn't hurt.
... he wasn't hurt. 6... he could feel the glass shatter, his skin tearing against the fragments and...
He could feel a blinding sharp pain shoot up his arm. The distant sound of his racquet hitting the ground muffled in his ears, as that pulsing pain grew sharper and sharper. And he fell to his knees, the clay hard and unforgiving as he gripped his elbow and clenched his teeth to avoid crying out. And though his teammates were just mere feet away, their collective voices sounded yards back.
"Don't come here!" He yelled out, surprised that he managed to keep his voice so steady.
And he remembered the way their knuckles shook and turned white as they gripped the bleachers, ready to jump onto the court and be by his side. Their frozen faces. The looks of concern... the way that usually smiling face was staring just so devastatingly intently. And that insurmountable wave of regret that he was the reason behind that heartbreaking expression.
Standing up, he made his way over to his fallen tennis racquet. Gripping it tightly in his right hand. He had to finish this match. He had to see it through to the end.
And across the net, that usually smug face had vanished. Replaced by one so bone-chilling and lethally calm. And he had always thought of them as similar sides to the same coin. Rivals who towered from the highest of pinnacles... yet the ground beneath him continued to crumble. And as he fell, he finally realized how distorted his perspective from the top had always been. Because there was no pinnacle. No apex of greatness. Metaphors that gave him that sense of purpose and the obligatory duty to guide and protect those below him. They were never on similar grounds. And it all sounded so silly now... Because in reality, they were just two boys separated by a polyethylene net. Individuals. He wasn't Seishun Gakuen's captain, the Pillar of Seigaku, but Tezuka Kunimitsu. Just Tezuka Kunimitsu. And standing across the net wasn't Hyotei Gakuen's captain, the Spartan King who towered over his 200 club members.
The growing numbness stemming from his left elbow was an unyielding reminder that he was in the middle of a tennis match. He needed to win... Even if winning meant this would be his last match, he had to. Because standing across that net was someone so detached from the excitement and vigour of the courts. An anomic presence... the face of someone who knew no compassion... someone so far from human.
He was terrifying.
5... twisting metal, the clean lacerations...
He remembered the first time he laid eyes on a tennis racquet. It was slender with a long grip and an elegantly arched beam. And he recalled how it effortlessly sliced cleanly through the air, catching a small yellow ball. The vibrato clear and resonating as it met the sweet spot. An instant later, the ball returned in a quick rally that was exciting and wonderful.
"There you are!" His father called out, breathless and eyes wide, "I thought you got kidnapped! Never do that again! Your mother would kill me if you went missing... she actually might... Hey Mitsu... let's go back to the playground and pretend you never wandered away in the first place. Don't tell mama. And you know what? I'll get you that little bonsai plant you've been eyeing. Because you're such a good, behaved and quiet... especially quiet boy. And... are you even listening?"
He could feel a large hand rest against his shoulder and had to tear his eyes away to look up at his father's face smiling down at him.
And he remembered being so completely captivated by the sight of glistening racquets striking swiftly in controlled refined loops to catch the ball, the rhythmic thumping of a rally, the pungent scent of the summer sun and cracked pavement, the metallic taste on his tongue as he unconsciously kept biting his lower lip. So enthralled that he couldn't even register when he had left his father's side in the first place... or how long he was standing here.
"That's called tennis." His father's voice was steady and had a quality that always reassured him, "Personally, I'm not very good at it. But if you want to learn, I think your mother has a friend who went professional for a short while. Hopefully, he can take you under his wing."
He couldn't find his voice. It was like his excitement had robbed him of it. So he simply nodded, before turning his concentration back onto the courts knowing that his father was still standing right behind him.
... 4... the sound of crumpling metal and overflowing darkness...
There was a certain fascination when it came to Echizen Ryoma. He was comparable to a hurricane or a typhoon... and he was swept away completely. It was the way the young freshman marched onto the court like he owned the place. The way his eyes lit up as he returned the ball. And it was exciting. It was so very exciting.
And the potential was endless! He knew it... deep down inside that Echizen Ryoma was going to make it to the top. An undefeatable tennis player. The stuff of legends. And he was going to bring him there. He was going to be the one to wake up all that hidden potential. He was going to be the one to make sure he reaches that height that none of them would ever dream to see. And... 3... it was quiet.
"You're both horribly stubborn... but that's about it. It isn't that you're both similar... No... You're both so very different. From the way he holds himself and the way he's just so indifferent to the world around him, I'd say he achieved satori. But you... even though you don't show it, you care... a lot. You're sensitive. And... I don't say it like it's a bad thing. It's what made you into the strong captain I remember back in middle school. The only problem is, you have trouble voicing everything you keep bubbled up inside. And... I hope that one day... maybe... you'll find someone who will understand that... Who will understand you."
And there was that familiar tilt to his lips, as they curved into a smile. A smile he remembered... and loved. And... 2... he breathed in... And his body felt numb, yet oddly warm in a blanket of red.
"Kunimitsu." Her voice was a mixture of surprise and concern, "What are you still doing awake?"
He breathed out... "I... couldn't sleep."
"What's wrong?"
"... I had a nightmare." ... He breathed in...
"A nightmare, huh?" A soft smile and opened arms.
... It was warm.
"Everyone has dreams or nightmares that are upsetting... even grownups."
"Even ojisan?"
"Mm hm." She nodded, "And your tousan, and mama too."
He breathed out... It was warm.
"It's okay to feel afraid from time to time."
Realization hit him.
It was warm.
He breathed in... and then steadily breathed out...
He could see her aging face. That smile she reserved especially for him... And he never felt so safe and sound.
... Chapter 1
"So you're Tezuka Kunimitsu." A wrinkling woman acknowledged with a certain cheekiness.
"This is Tezuka Kunimitsu?" A tall lanky teenager formed his mouth into an 'O', as he adjusted his opaque circular glasses over the bridge of his nose, "He's kind of... small."
"He's still a freshman." The woman chided.
"... Yea... but... he's kind of tiny." The tall teenager frowned, "I definitely thought Tezuka Kunimitsu would be some huge buff guy, kind of like the Hulk but without all the green. Someone who'd be able to return a jack knife without breaking that flimsy little arm... no offense."
Tezuka Kunimitsu was used to people speaking behind his back. He survived through grade school by ignoring their stares as he was graded the top of their year, and ignoring the way they grimaced as he held onto another trophy with the one hand and his tennis racquet in the other. But these two characters were something else... and keep in mind, they weren't speaking behind his back... they were speaking directly in front of him.
It wasn't like he was disappointed with the woman sitting in front of him... despite her brutish demeanour and rough edges. She was after all Ryuzaki Sumire, rumoured to be a legendary tennis coach and a formidable player back in the day... Although according to Seishun Gakuen statistics, she's been rather down on her luck these past few years at the National tournaments. But, there was still some lingering attachment to her glory days reputation...
... And then there was that guy standing behind her... who moments ago assigned him and everyone else in the club a hundred laps... one. hundred. laps.
"He needs milk." Said guy muttered, giving him a good look over.
"That's not a balanced diet." Ryuzaki-sensei slapped the youth on the arm.
"I'm just saying... Hold on." The bespectacled teen was frowning at him once more, "You're Tezuka Kunimitsu."
"... Aa." He returned his senior's frown.
"Oh. It all makes sense now." The lanky teen nodded knowingly.
"... What makes sense?" The aging woman questioned.
"I assigned the team a hundred laps." His senior shrugged, like it was no big deal. Like running a hundred laps around the court was as easy as lounging on the bench watching and yawning from time to time, like he practiced.
"... You did what? A hundred what?" Ryuzaki-sensei shrieked.
"I didn't think they'd actually do it." The teen chuckled mostly to himself, "I saw this little runt and Takesue getting all heated over a tennis match. I had to break it up... you know how hot-headed he can be. But I was kind of surprised that he'd pick a fight with a little shrimp. Although, since he's the infamous Tezuka Kunimitsu it's starting to make a bit more sense."
"Infamous?" He repeated.
The lanky teen offered a quick quirk to the corner of his lips, "I say that in a good way... Question though, why Seishun Gakuen?"
"Yamato!" Ryuzaki-sensei hastily slapped the older teen for the second time.
"I'm just curious," The taller boy shrugged, "I mean... if you came here for our tennis club, you're out of luck- Ow! Calm down sensei! What I'm trying so say is, we had no hopes of reaching Nationals last year... and the year before... and we probably won't make it again this year- Ow! Really sensei?"
The aging woman was glaring.
"... I'm actually thinking of resigning." He spoke out.
Not hearing any immediate response, he glanced up surprised to see completely straight expressions on the duo's faces. After letting out a heavy sigh, it was Yamato-buchou who spoke out first, "... It's because of this woman right? ... Or... At least I think she's a woman... Ow! Sensei! Come on! It's a joke."
"Tezuka-kun, all... jokes... aside, this decision is for you to make and if you're serious I don't have the power to stop you. However from the list of awards you've already received, it would be a shame to only pursue tennis outside of school, because as you know the awards and tournaments are far fewer in number in Japan. However, if you were to go abroad that would be a different story. But I have the feeling that you weren't planning on that any time soon." Ryuzaki-sensei replied firmly, "Well, look at the time... Morning classes are beginning soon. I suggest you take time to seriously think about this decision Tezuka-kun."
"I'll walk you to class." The taller teenager volunteered whilst escorting him out of their coach's office.
Contrary to the rather eccentric and vocal middle school senior he saw just seconds ago, the walk to class was thankfully silent. Because Ryuzaki-sensei was right... the opportunities to pursue tennis outside of school were far fewer and he definitely wanted to keep on playing. He could transfer schools... but there were only a handful of tennis geared middle school within his prefecture. Besides, other than it being a huge hassle, where would he go? Despite its recent years, Seishun Gakuen is still regarded as having a reputable tennis club. There was St. Rudolph, but the school was relatively new and he wasn't prepared to live in a dorm. The top choice would be Hyotei Gakuen, boasting a Spartan-run club of over a hundred players. No doubt the competition and challenge would be there. But Hyotei doesn't hand out scholarships. And then there was that option to go abroad. It had never crossed his mind until Ryuzaki-sensei had mentioned it. Going abroad meant complete devotion to tennis. It meant dedicating his future to becoming a professional tennis player. The stakes would be so much higher. Failing couldn't be an option because he would have no backup plan. And Ryuzaki-sensei was right... he wasn't ready.
"Tezuka-kun." Yamato-buchou's oddly stern voice caught his ears.
He glanced up into dark tinted glasses, squinting slightly in hopes of catching at least the silhouette of the taller boy's eyes. But it was futile, and he remained unreadable and surrounded in an air that was so prevailing and grave that all his questions on how a buffoon could become team captain had completely vanished from his mind. And a sudden growing sense of respect towards the taller teenager overwhelmed his senses. It was no wonder the team had run all those laps without objection. Despite his appearances, Yamato Yuudai was something else.
"I'm not going to tell you what to do." Yamato-buchou started, "But we need you. We still won't be strong enough to make it to Nationals. But I know you have the capabilities of developing a team that can. You need to be that pillar of strength we desperately need."
He clenched his hands into fists, not wanting the older boy to notice how his fingers and the rest of his body had begun to tremble.
"You're good." The lanky teenager shrugged, "Better than me actually... But not everyone is as gracious as I am, as you've witness today. People get jealous and ugly. But that's how you know your own strength. And the stronger you are, the more isolated you get. Maybe in the future you'll find someone who can play at your calibre and you'll forget how lonely it is at the top. But for now, certain people will be crude and foul and downright nasty. You can't avoid them because so long as you continue to excel, they're going to keep showing up. Rather than making yourself less spectacular, just man up. Continue to work hard. Do your best for you, and not for everyone else around you. It's called life. Deal with it."
And he was left staring at Yamato-buchou's back, as the taller teen walked away and eventually disappeared from view. Leaving him with more to consider than he was originally expecting... and for the first time today, he felt glad that he attended Seishun Gakuen.
"Tezuka Kunimitsu right?" The boy who sat at the top right corner of the room offered a small smile as he stood in front of his desk, "It's nice to meet you... My name's Oishi Syuichiro."
"Class rep." He acknowledged, as a faint self-conscious blush made its way onto the short haired boy's face.
"Yes... And... I'm also on the tennis team." He added, "I actually saw you this morning. I'm not sure if you even noticed me but... I saw your match against one of our seniors. It was... You're amazing."
He blinked back the surprise of a sudden compliment, "Thank you."
"Come on." Oishi offered, "I'll show you around the school."
"... Thank you." He found himself saying again, a sense of gratitude overcoming him.
"No problem." Oishi grinned, "It's my duty as class representative and all... And, I really wanted to meet you too. I'm really glad we're in the same class."
He offered a curt nod as they made their way out of the classroom and down the various hallways.
"Can I ask why you didn't attend school opening week?" Oishi questioned tentatively, "I don't want to intrude or seem nosy or anything... If you don't want to answer. It's just... something to talk about."
"My grandfather and I were on a fishing trip. I only returned yesterday." He replied honestly.
"That's amazing." Oishi earnestly remarked, "I don't know anything about fishing. You're really impressive Tezuka-kun. And on top of that, your scrimmage with that senior was just great! It felt like my breath was taken away. Every time you hit the ball, the sound that came off your racquet's strings were just so clear. A perfect hit each time. I haven't really developed that kind of head-on strength in my arm yet, but I play a pretty decent lob game. I hope we'll be given a chance to play against each other sometime."
"Me too." He nodded, feeling the corners of his lips tug.
"Oh hey! This is Eiji-kun's classroom!" Oishi pointed out, as they paused in front of said classroom.
Instantaneously, a bundle of red came bursting through the opened door, "Oishi! ... Ah! Unya! It's that guy! The guy next to you! The one who showed that no good senpai!"
"His name's Tezuka Kunimitsu." Oishi introduced with a broad smile, nudging him to continue.
"Nice to meet you." He greeted.
"Uwah!" The redhead's sky blue eyes widened, "You seem so mature-like! My name's Kikumaru Eiji! You can call me Eiji though, cause that's what everyone else calls me."
"Nice to meet you Eiji-kun." He corrected.
The redhead offered a wide grin, "Nice to meet you too Tezuka! Oh! Hold on a sec, lemme grab Fujiko-chan!"
"Girlfriend?" He arched a brow, inquiring with the short haired boy.
Oishi released a low chuckle and shook his head, "Fuji Shusuke. He also joined the tennis team."
Seconds later, Eiji re-emerged from the classroom. This time with his hands over delicate shoulders, as he pushed a honey haired brunet forward.
And it was like time had stopped.
He could feel his breath caught in his throat, as he stared into the deepest pools of sapphire. Eyes so captivatingly clear and bright that seemed to see right through him. But it wasn't uncomfortable... no... It was the opposite. A certain pull that was tremendously strong, drawing him deeper and deeper in. And even if he was ever given the chance, he didn't want to look away... ever. But then a willowy arm lifted forward, and he found himself hand in hand with a much softer one. A hand that felt more suited for piano keys rather than roughened by a tennis racquet. And then there was that smile... a smile that words simply couldn't describe.
Beautiful.
... An understatement, but there was something to it. The warm curves that were just so genuine and chaste, yet hid a certain mystery that was enchanting and kept pulling him deeper in.
"Hello... I'm Fuji Shusuke. It's a pleasure to meet you." Spoken in a voice that seemed to have drifted off into the wind, like a faint but awfully sweet melody.
And he remembered to breathe, "Tezuka Kunimitsu. Likewise."
It was attraction.
To be continued.
Note: Thank you so much for reading this first chapter! This chapter might be a bit confusing, but I promise it'll make sense... just give it twenty... thirty or so more chapters... Uhrg... I better get started.
Please review!