A/N: Hello everyone! Seyyan's back with a brand new, fresh-off-the-oven story, featuring POT's Pillar Pair. What makes it even more special is it's a SongFic. Well, not a complete SongFic, but it's heavily based on the song "What Hurts The Most" by Rascal Flatts. I recommend listening to it while reading the story.
As always, I do not own the Prince of Tennis, nor the lyrics to "What Hurts The Most". And I'm still bad at tennis.
Warning: Possible OOC and possible cliffhanger. Because this is just a ONESHOT, ok?
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What Hurts the Most
by Seyyan
07-09-08
I fumbled with my cuffs, feeling slightly uncomfortable and restricted in my formal suit. It's so like Kunimitsu to meet me in a formal restaurant. We haven't seen other in quite a while—though we email each other rather regularly—so I'm rather excited to see him. I'm sure he feels the same way too, even though he attends my games every once in a while.
Ever since I went back to the US after defeating him, we've been exchanging emails. It's really funny how he becomes sort of different in his writings. True, he's still rather formal, but at least he says more than ten words at a time. In fact, I often had to spend half an hour reading his e-mail—that's how long he writes. But I'm not complaining. Reading his lengthy emails helped me figure him out better, and it wasn't too long before I finally realized that I had feelings for him.
At first, I felt so disturbed with my feelings. I mean, we're both guys. Surely, what I was feeling for him was very deep friendship, not romantic love. For several months, I struggled with myself, at the same time, trying not to reveal any of my turmoil to him. Then one day, he sent me a really brief e-mail, asking me when I was coming back to Japan and if he and I could meet. I mulled it over. When I go to Japan to meet him, I should tell him of my feelings and ask him to give us a chance. If it works, then well and good. If it doesn't…well, I was hoping that it would work. I had no plan B.
And so, with that in mind, I told him that I would be visiting my cousin for a couple of weeks and would be happy to meet him as well. The day before I left for Japan, I went around the city, looking for a nice present for him. It took me the whole day to find him an appropriate gift. I found this little antique shop in a corner selling pocket watches. Isn't that just appropriate for him? He's such a formal person, and a stickler for punctuality, too. So, I bought him a white gold pocket watch and had his name engraved inside. I wanted to buy him a ring, but that might be kind of awkward, since we aren't together yet. Maybe when he's agreed to be my lover.
Lover. It's such a strange word. I used to think that I never wanted to be someone's lover. It sounded so bad and demeaning, like something that goes along with betrayal. And now, here I am, sitting in this restaurant, fumbling with my cuffs, anxiously waiting for the person who I want to become lovers with.
I lightly pat my breast pocket, assuring myself that my present is still there. My head is full of thoughts of him. How much has he changed since I last saw him?
And suddenly, I see the maître'd leading him to my table. He looks the same from afar. The same wispy hair, the same formal bearing, even his eyeglasses are the same. But he's…he's smiling. He's really smiling. Not the forced smile that Fuji had when I beat him at Wimbledon, but a real "I'm happy to see you" smile. And it makes me feel warm inside.
"I'm happy we could meet, Ryoma."
"So am I, Kunimitsu. You look well."
And he answers me with an even warmer smile. Oh, I wish I could see that smile everyday.
The waiter comes to our table to get our orders, and he orders for the both of us. I am glad that he did, as I was quite preoccupied studying his face and his expressions as discreetly as I could.
We fall into a small conversation as the waiter leaves for the kitchen.
"How's your cousin doing, Ryoma? Nanako-san, isn't it?"
He even remembers my cousin's name. "She is doing well. She gave birth to her second son recently, so she and her husband are really busy with the family."
"Is that so? Then you are a real uncle now."
I can't help smiling back at him. "Yes, and while her kids are really cute, I'm glad I don't have to take care of them so much. I don't think I can handle kids yet."
He chuckles. "Maybe it's because you're still a kid yourself."
"Hey!" I mock pout. "I just have a baby face. Unlike this person who looked like an uncle even when we were still kids."
"Yes, I wonder who that 'uncle' is…"
He really has changed. He can make jokes now!
"Aren't you going to make me run laps for that?"
"Well," he pretends to think about it. "It sounds really tempting, but I can leave all that to your trainer."
I groan at the thought. "Kunimitsu, Inui-sempai is a scary trainer. He still tries to make me drink his Penal-Tea! One time, I went to his room and it looked like a mad scientist's lair!"
His laughter floats to my ears. "Nevertheless, he is an excellent trainer. And you're lucky to have him."
"I suppose. But I still don't like his drinks."
"Well, you can't have it all."
Then the waiter comes in with our orders—mine is some sort of grilled salmon with orange glaze and buttered asparagus on the side, and his is penne pasta with broccoli, tuna flakes and spinach and olive oil sauce—and pours us a glass of champagne each.
"To happy reunions." He raises his glass to a toast as the waiter is gone.
"To happy reunions."
Our glasses clink softly and we take a sip of the bubbly drink.
"Did I order the right dish for you? I wasn't sure what Western dish you like, so I ordered fish anyway."
"Oh, this is perfectly fine. I have always liked fish better than meat."
It really is nicely done. The fish flakes nicely and blends well with the glaze.
"How is your pasta?"
"It's really flavorful. I try to sample different kinds of cuisine as possible whenever I eat out, so now I have acquired a taste for olives."
I make a face. "Olives do not settle well with me."
"That's too bad," his lips quirk into a semi-smirk. "Inui also has a fondness for olives."
"Which is why I don't like it!"
We settle into a comfortable silence as we continue with our dinner. My mind buzzes with activity, as I think of how I could steer our conversation to "business".
Soon enough, we finish our meal, and the waiter takes our plates to return with dessert later. I take it as my cue to pick up our conversation, but Kunimitsu speaks first.
"Actually, Ryoma, the reason I wanted to meet up with you is because I wanted to ask you for a favor."
"A favor?" I lift an eyebrow in curiousity.
"Well," he taps his fingers together, "I'm getting married next week, and I want you to be my best man."
Suddenly, I feel like I'm choking.
"You're the closest person to me, and I really want you to be there with me—"
"You're getting married so soon?" I am starting to feel panicked.
"Yes, well, our parents have betrothed us before we were born, so we would've been married eventually anyway."
He says that so matter-of-factly. He says that so matter-of-factly, that I want to puke.
I swallow visibly. "Do you love her?"
It's strange. He looks surprised at my question.
"I will learn to love her eventually."
"Kunimitsu…"
Trembling softly, I reach into my breast pocket for his present and place it on the table, sliding the thin box to his side.
"Here," I try to smile as naturally as possible. "I thought it would suit you. I guess it could work as a pre-wedding present as well."
He picks up the box and opens it, his eyes widening slightly.
"I'll be there behind you on your wedding day. I'm your dear friend, aren't i?"
I can fill the tears starting to prick behind my eyes. I can't cry here, not in front of him.
He gingerly takes out the pocket watch and looks at me, his eyes gleaming in joy.
"Thank you—both for the watch and for accepting my request. I can't tell you how much it means to me."
I smile bitterly as he inspects his new watch.
What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away.
And never knowing
What could've been.
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do.
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