Title: Centre Ice
Author: Jade
Word Count: 3300+
Rating: PG
Notes:I don't own TeniPuri! TezuRyo Hockey AU - Selflessness may be a virtue, but it's Tezuka's greatest flaw.
--Written for SC's birthday - dedicated to him and JK.
Beta:Ka0richan/pillarpair 3 Thanks to her amazing work.
When Echizen Ryoma first joins the hockey team, Tezuka's arm is already injured and Tezuka has long since given up playing his favourite spot to be the goalie instead. But as he watches Echizen play, Tezuka cannot help but remember playing centre, remember how it had felt being recognized as the rising star of the team. There is a sharpness in Echizen's eyes that is trained to find gaps, holes, feints, and places he can dump the puck in. Tezuka does not let him find those when he's in net, if only for the sake of himself. He wishes he could still be forward but doesn't let anyone in on this secret. He pretends that being goalie brings more satisfaction – and in a way, it might. It allows him to continue his passion for the game.
It is hard, sometimes, to have the constant nagging twinge of pain and numbing discomfort in his shoulder. It makes him remember that there was a time when he could have done better. It makes him remember that there was a time when everyone loved him because they could count on him to pull them out of anything and win tie breaks by pulling off a unbeatable new shot. But now it is different, and it is about Echizen scoring and making new shots. Tezuka still wonders if they are alike at all.
Tezuka believes the Samurai Nanjiroh and himself are the only people who can constantly keep up with Echizen, make sure they can keep Echizen from scoring and getting the better of their goalkeeping. He wishes he could be playing withEchizen nonetheless. He wishes he could be helping with assists instead of standing in the net deflecting the shots. But Tezuka knows he cannot be careless. For the sake of his team, he has to win and block the puck and train himself to be defensive rather than offensive. Deep inside though, he knows it is for himself and a future in hockey that he is even playing.
Echizen is definitely not a team player. When Echizen gets his first goal on Seigaku ice, Tezuka can see that his strategies and game style will be too hard to communicate to the other players. This is the only reason why Tezuka is hesitant to put him on the regular team. The outdoor rinks are filled with freshmen, juniors, and seniors who are either falling or showing off. He knows he could pick one or two of the older players to be the other member of the team, but he does not. Tezuka's not actually sure why, but already the potential is oozing out of Echizen and he cannot resist. It is a rare impulsive act.
Laps. He orders laps because that is the way he disciplines himself. It is careless, he understands, but he has made so many careless mistakes already and he is only trying to make sure others do not become careless like him. So he does not care that the endurance, power, strength, and agility is better in his legs than in his arms. For him, it does not matter because Tezuka feels like everything has already fallen apart and whatever he does, he is only attempting to be better than he can be. He allows himself to do this because he does not have much hope left. For Echizen, it is different. It is different because Echizen is brilliant as a whole and he does not have to worry about being reckless yet. Tezuka has a lot of hope for Echizen.
Tezuka hopes Echizen sees him as a goal. He is pretty sure Echizen does, pretty sure Echizen thinks of him on the same level as Nanjiroh, but he cannot be sure. At any rate, he doubts any one would ever suspect that he looks to Echizen as a goal, as a dream. He tries hard not to obsess. It is one of the few times he fails at anything at all.
Tezuka tells himself it does not hurt. It becomes mantra-like and he has finally realized that it has been a long time since he understood what 'it' is.
He tells himself it is his arm, but if he is truly honest with himself, he will tell himself that it is Echizen, that it is his heart that cannot take everything, cannot worry about everything, cannot hope for everything – but it still does. His heart that cannot love everything, cannot hold everything, and yet still be intact. In reality, all of it has jumbled together into something that is hockey, himself, his arm, and Echizen.
Watching becomes tiresome. It does not hurt really, but there are pangs of the kind of envy only Tezuka can have and feel. Hopefully, pangs of guilt are not mixed in too. He watches because he can, staring at the slim figure gliding towards him and skating so beautifully. He thinks Echizen is perfection, the perfection Tezuka is skating toward. But only he seems to realize because his dreams, goals, and ideals are blurring with the reality of his life. Sorrow and grief and his arm and hockey and Echizen are so connected that he cannot tell if he is living in a dream or not. He hopes Fuji knows and understands and is not breaking up inside because Tezuka does not and he is; breaking, cracking, so close to shattering.
All Tezuka really wants to do is to play and be, but it is so hard some days when his very being is aching and he is pushing his arm until it feels like it is going to be destroyed and broken to the point where he will never be able to use it again. Echizen knows, and he thinks Tezuka is being reckless, but Tezuka does not care. He wants to say, "I am being reckless for you," but no words are spoken out loud.
Tezuka decides he cannot have distractions, decides that he will not let Echizen get close because he wants him to win. He has to separate Echizen from hockey, even if he does not really want to. He closes his eyes and tries not to pay attention to the nightmares he has of Echizen skating further away from him, or of his arm shattering into tiny little shards that are each shot into an empty net, when Tezuka is suddenly skating down a mountain, falling, and pulling Echizen down with him. Then he wakes up panting and so weary. He cannot allow Echizen to fall. He cannot allow Echizen to break like he has, with no hope, and no happiness. He cannot allow Echizen to become what he himself has become.
The first time Tezuka blatantly shows fear and careless is during Seigaku's game with Fudomine. Echizen is a star, as always, and the game is 4-2 in Fudomine's favour when it happens.
Echizen is trying to get past Shinji's defensive Spot, because if the puck goes off his stick, Echizen's arm will spasm when he tries to shoot. When he finally succeeds in getting the puck past Shinji to Fuji, he is thrown onto the ice face first from the force of his counter. Shinji is skating toward the puck and his blade is in just the right position for it to cut Echizen's eyelid after slipping past his face guard. There is blood. There is so much blood. Everywhere. Tezuka's brain does not seem to function anymore, and all he can see is the pool of red from across the rink. All he can think is, 'Echizen. Echizen. Echizen.' He does not want Echizen to injure himself, to lose hockey, to lose everything he has and is good at. Lose his dream, his ability, and his passion. Tezuka is horrified. He is so scared and his body skates towards the mess of its own accord because he still has not properly processed what has happened. And then he is picking Echizen up and placing him on the stretcher and heading to the medical room, and sitting beside Echizen with his head in his hands thinking, 'What have I done? Echizen. Echizen,'as Ryuzaki-sensei bandages and cleans Echizen up. Their conversation later on does not improve matters.
"Echizen, I'm sorry."
"No Buchou, no you're not. Don't say that like you mean it."
Deep down, Tezuka knows that Echizen is right. He's not sorry about the accident – he's sorry they can't play together properly.
He worries, worries so much that he has pushed him too hard and done something so terribly wrong. It is because of that game that Tezuka wakes up and starts to really think. There is only ten minutes left of the game, and Echizen manages to pull together and Seigaku wins 6-4. There is so much cheering and happiness but all Tezuka can do is think about how close he came to pulling Echizen down even if he does not have anything to do with the injury. He takes deep breaths and that night he dreams.
He dreams that he and Echizen are in a shoot out, and there are 8 pucks lined up in an arch in front of Echizen. He skates up and shoots each of them. Each seems to slip past Tezuka's leg or just miss his hand so he does not catch it. The last one hits Tezuka in the chest, right where his heart is. And then Echizen is skating up towards him, and Tezuka feels like he will crash into him, but at the last second, Echizen slows and the puck, mask, pads, sticks, net, ice all disappear and they are drowned in darkness when Echizen wraps his arms around Tezuka, pressing against him and kissing him so hard.
Tezuka wakes up out of breath with his head pounding and heart hurting. He feels more exhausted than ever before.
Playing Hyotei never seemed so difficult. Tezuka does not remember ever doing so badly against anyone; he allows too many pucks into the net and misses too many easy saves. His hand doesn't respond, his legs don't respond, and his whole body isn't capable of functioning. Frustration is not written on his face, but Tezuka is so very angry with himself, and he wants to close his eyes and rest. Echizen fights through to the end and keeps a consistent and brilliant performance to hold out and they win in sudden death. Still, Tezuka thinks he has never allowed himself such a dismal performance and that things really need to change, fast. It is a close victory and Tezuka does not feel like he has won anything. His arm is really broken apart now and Tezuka will not tell anyone. He is at a huge loss with what to do. He wants to play; he wants to heal; he wants to lead his team to Nationals at the same time. He spends days pondering his choice.
When Tezuka goes to Germany, he knows it is for the better. He knows that in Germany he will not be distracted, that he will be able to think. He knows that without Echizen there, he can be objective with his thoughts, and it is only when his arm heals (he is determined it will) that he can address Echizen and set things right. This is his plan; he has doubts about whether or not it will succeed, but he has to try because he knows Echizen will never wait for him, and when he is off in the National leagues, playing in the Olympics, it is easy to forget your middle school captain who only secretly tried to make you the best you can be and push you to your highest potential.
He feels even lonelier than ever in Germany, so hurt and broken and tired and feeling so worthless. He wishes that he hadn't made the decision because he misses seeing Echizen's face almost every day and watching him play. He misses being able to use the Tezuka Zone and get even the wildest of Echizen's shots into the palm of his hand. He misses seeing Echizen struggle with the Zone, and beat it, using some new shot to get the puck past him. He thinks he misses Echizen's smirk and golden gaze the most.
Always, it is Echizen's piercing eyes that make his resolve waver, make his heart start beating a little faster, make him feel a little more pain.
When Tezuka gets back, they create something fake. There is some sort of equilibrium. They make sure that neither talk to the other, that they keep to themselves. Tezuka will sometimes pretend that he doesn't see Echizen staring at him or giving him looks. It's hard to tell what he's thinking – sometimes it's anger, more often it's hurt. Tezuka pretends he's not staring back at Echizen, completely lost and utterly confused. Watching him play, all Tezuka can think about is making sure that Echizen doesn't fall the way he has, that he continues to rise. He wants him to follow his dreams and achieve all his goals. At some point he hopes he will forget the pain and just teach Echizen to fly. Tezuka is prepared to pretend to be satisfied with watching from afar, watching Echizen fly without him – fly higher than anyone else and become out of sight. Only then will Tezuka even think of properly breaking down rather than wearing away.
Fuji knows, as always, that something is up. Exactly how much he knows, Tezuka is unsure of. But the looks shot at him and the increase in sighs when they are alone together, the messages conveyed through closed and open eyes – Tezuka is scared that Fuji probably knows more than he himself knows. Or at least, understands more than he himself understands. This is confirmed before he locks up and Echizen is crying – sobbing – onto Fuji's chest and Fuji's face is grim with an unknown emotion as he holds Echizen until he falls asleep, before picking him up and leaving. It is way past sunset when Tezuka gets home.
The next day, Tezuka knows something has changed because Echizen asks for a private practice after everyone has left. Tezuka is reluctant to agree.
"Echizen, think of players in front of you right now. Think of nationals, the present games."
"Buchou, please. Just this once." He doesn't say the 'for me' because he's scared of how Tezuka would react.
"…Once." Tezuka walks away without a glance back.
They play. At first, all Tezuka sees is frustration, as the fringes of his hair fall into his eyes and the sweat is almost pouring off of him. Echizen has improved drastically and he has new shots, new tricks, better speed, endurance, and power. He is a star that blinds Tezuka before he realizes that Echizen is so close and the slap shot that bounces off Tezuka feels like a slap across the face somehow. It's all in slow motion for Tezuka; Echizen throwing his stick to the ice in anger and pain, his murmur of, "Buchou," his trembling, the tears Tezuka can see even behind the face guard, the shaking as he skates off the ice and into the change room. Fuji comes out as soon as Echizen walks in and whispers, "Tezuka, what are you doing?" It's even worse than when Fuji is upset because of his brother.
Tezuka sinks downward and stays on the ice for God knows how long. The image of Ryoma crying haunts him and he shuts his eyes, willing it all to go away.
The full brunt of the problem and the mess doesn't hit Tezuka until Atobe shows up at his door two weeks later asking for "just dinner". He shakes his head, saying that he has already eaten while trying to ignore all the roses in Atobe's hand and how dressed up he is, and closes the door without letting Atobe say anything. His appetite seems to have left with Atobe. His homework remains on the desk, incomplete, and he drifts off to a nightmarish sleep – once again painfully quick, making him wake up every two or three hours. Still Tezuka is tired, and still proper sleep avoids him. When he wakes up and decides to stay awake at four-thirty in the morning, he thinks about Echizen, the way he feels so irresponsible about Echizen, and how Echizen seems to be falling further the more Tezuka tries to push him higher.
Echizen thinks Tezuka is selfless to the point of selfishness. He won't let others care about him even if they want to. And he will deny himself everything in order to better others.
Fuji thinks Tezuka is being foolish and that the chance is right there, that everything is right, and Tezuka knows what is happening. He thinks that Tezuka should stop being blind.
Tezuka doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know if he wants to love Echizen, or push him away, or even if he does love Echizen. He wonders exactly what is happening because he doesn't understand and it would be so much easier if someone explained.
There is only so much that Echizen can endure. Tezuka thinks, three days later, that maybe he has always just been staring the truth in the eye without reacting. When he arrives at school to open up the arenas and changing rooms, there is a note in simple straight kanji "I'm leaving for the States – Echizen" and Ryuzaki-sensei confirms Echizen's withdrawal from the club and the school. Tezuka is devastated, and doesn't function on the ice. Blocking pucks is a subconscious act and later on, he will forget how he passed through the day.
All he remember is staying late on the ice after school, standing at the net, wondering where Echizen is and why he's not on the ice shooting, practicing, drilling, playing. Tezuka wonders why Echizen is gone, and the reasons come clearer than Tezuka could have imagined. It becomes so simple, so logical, but all this is too late. Tezuka thinks he's never felt so much pain, never felt such an overwhelming urge to cry.
Fuji, breaking every rule of the ice, is changed into street clothes and running shoes when he glides across the rink. Tezuka can just imagine what the shoes are doing to the ice, but his brain doesn't process it. Fuji picks him up from a sitting position (Tezuka doesn't know how he got into it) and brings him to the change rooms. He waits patiently for Tezuka to change and Fuji breathes out, "You can't have not expected it." They sit on the bench together, Tezuka staring at his bag, and Fuji staring at nothing particular.
"So it finally happened – he broke…" Fuji's voice was slow and soft, and had a tiny tremble to it. Tezuka said nothing because he couldn't begin to express how he felt. Tezuka cries properly for the first time in many years. He thinks, 'Broken. Broken beyond repair. Echizen, will you ever forgive me?'
It is years before anyone sees or hears from Echizen again. Tezuka sees him climbing out of a taxi in Tokyo with his luggage. Tezuka catches him moments before Echizen enters the airport. The golden eyes have none of their passion left, and they glance past Tezuka as he hears Echizen's cold voice, "Don't." Tezuka can hear the unspoken words and the chill of Echizen's voice almost makes him shiver. He feels like he's on centre ice, and the puck has fallen and someone invisible has stolen it away.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated, please no flames though! 3 JaDe