I have claimed our favorite boys at 30(underscore)kisses, an LJ community that takes thirty different prompts to make different fanworks from them (fiction, art, fanvids, icons, etc) but it has to feature at least one kiss in it. I'm almost halfway done.
Thrill Pair
Theme #2: news; letter
Good News
-
It's a hot day to be stuck in class. Fuji sits near the open windows where the outside breeze invades the stifling room, wafting nicely against his warm skin. The heat gives the afternoon a hazy feeling and no one is really paying attention to the teacher, who is also affected by the temperature. It's Fuji's last class of the day and then he can head home to the lonely apartment waiting for him.
College is fun, certainly. But there are times when Fuji misses Eiji's energy and loudness that accompanied him throughout junior high and high school. Even at nineteen, Eiji is still the same mischievous boy, now working at his favorite pet store and giving Oishi constant headaches being his roommate and boyfriend. Fuji visits them sometimes and he always marvels at how cluttered and busy their apartment is. Oishi keeps on apologizing for the mess but Fuji likes it like that since it speaks of how both young men live there.
Fuji's apartment is nicely furnished but too neat and desolate that the brunette once or twice deliberately made a mess just to make it look like someone inhabits it.
But Fuji can't regret the reason why he lives alone. He really can't.
Just in the distance, too far to hear the accompanying thwacks and thuds, Fuji watches the people playing tennis in the university courts. They are letting out steam instead of playing for fun, Fuji knows. The brunette dreamily watches as a ball is lobbed highly, the smile on his face vague and faraway.
Finally the teacher dismisses the class and the students trudge slowly out into the hall. Their steps are quick, impatient to be out in the open air where its cooler. Fuji waves farewell to his classmates who glance at him as he heads home. His apartment is only a few blocks away from the university and he wishes that somebody had invited him to do something after school that would put off this journey home.
It's not that Fuji is lonely. It's just that the silence and emptiness of the place reminds him that he's alone.
The heat of the day isn't fading at all and it seems that it will be a muggy night ahead. Already the sky is darkening.
"Oi, Fuji-san," the owner of a magazine stall Fuji frequents calls with a friendly wave, grinning widely. "We have the latest issue of Pro Monthly Tennis delivered this morning."
Fuji stops and smiles cordially. "Sou ka? Then I have to buy one."
The owner scratches his stubble as he hands Fuji the glossy magazine. "It's a hot issue these days. It's almost sold out but I saved you a copy since I know you like it. Do you know the news yet?"
"News?" The brunette accepts the magazine with a 'thank you' and pays.
"Oh yeah. A lot of people have been buying it because of it's main article. Seems like a sixteen-year-old kid has just won the US Open. They say he'll conquer the Australian Open next, completing his Grand Slam wins, and he'll be world number 1 in no time. This Echizen kid played in the US Open when he was twelve but didn't reach the finals though he won against Lleyton Hewitt, who was the number one player then. Seems like he's in a hurry to rise to the top."
This sounds familiar…
"And oh, the kid's Japanese! Impressive, eh? You are a tennis fan, after all, Fuji-san."
The brunette glances down at the cover and, as he thought, Ryoma's face stares up at him. His hair is a little longer, curling a bit from underneath his trademark white cap.
"Hmmm," Fuji says with a thoughtful little smile. "Thank you for this."
-
Home is silent, as expected. Fuji drops his bag on the living room table and sinks into the couch, magazine propped on his lap. He flips to the main article he's looking for and smirks at the caption.
SIXTEEN YEAR OLD WINS US OPEN. ECHIZEN RYOMA PEGGED TO BE YOUNGEST WORLD NUMBER 1.
He reads through it but stalls at the snapshots of the boy wonder, clad in his recognizable red and white ensemble. The pictures are excellent without blur or excess. There's a nice one of Ryoma's face in profile, eyes dark with concentration and his mouth tilted in a genuine smile that he often wears when facing a particularly tough opponent and he's having fun. Fuji traces the curve of the boy's long nose on the paper.
-
"I'm going back to America," Ryoma said with a little shrug but there was an excited edge in his voice. "Oyaji put me in the US Open again. Then after that he's talking about the other grand slam tournaments."
Fuji had his face pressed into his camera, facing a random flower that when captured on film turned into an exquisite bloom of color and detail. Such was Fuji's talent.
"…Fuji-senpai?"
He didn't answer immediately, let the silence stretch. "You're finally debuting as a pro, aren't you?"
Ryoma frowned somewhat. Fuji wasn't looking at him and it bothered the younger boy.
"Aa. I'll be gone for some time. School is boring and I don't want to go. Okasaan is a bit disappointed but this has always been oyaji's plan."
Still Fuji didn't move from his position and he kept his voice calm, impervious. "I see."
Just as Ryoma was getting irritated, Fuji took the picture and lowered the camera. He straightened and glanced at Ryoma. His smile was somewhat different and the younger boy couldn't read what lay behind it.
"What is your goal, Ryoma?"
Golden eyes watched the other, scrutinizing in his way that always somehow translated as insolent staring. "To reach the sky," came his answer, honest, uncoated and certain.
The smile widened and Fuji sighed, satisfied. "Good luck."
Ryoma's eyes narrowed briefly, and then nodded in decision, he went up on tiptoes to overtake those all important inches and pecked Fuji on the cheek. Fuji looked genuinely surprised and his eyes were open, just as blue as the sky Ryoma aimed for.
"What was that for?"
"It's bad luck to say good luck, Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said by way of explanation. He smirked and added, "Mada mada dane."
-
Fuji is laughing quietly to himself in reminiscence of that day, almost a year ago. In that short time, Ryoma won three out four of the Grand Slam tournaments. He was rocketing through the rankings, this small incredible boy, and rocking the tennis world.
"The sky is closer now, isn't it, Ryoma," Fuji whispers to himself with a smile sweetened at the edges. "You can almost come home."
He places the magazine next to him and heads to the kitchen to get his dinner started. He expects Eiji and Inui to call later, maybe even Tezuka, to tell him of the good news he already knows.
-
"You will be gone for a long time, ne?" Fuji said later that night in bed, their clothes crumpled on the floor. Ryoma's things were randomly scattered throughout his brand new apartment of a month. It was nice.
Ryoma snorted sleepily. "I already said that."
"Oh, did you?"
The boy sighed. "Good night, Fuji-senpai."
"Say, Ryoma, maybe we should have a departure party for you. We didn't the last time you left. I'm sure Taka-san wouldn't mind. In fact, he'll be so happy for you that he'll make all your favorite sushi –"
"All right already," muttered the boy darkly, glaring through his fringe at the brunette who smiled innocently at him. "Good night, Syusuke."
Fuji kissed his forehead. "Good night, Ryoma."
END
