Views Toward A Relationship
By Yukirei (a.k.a. Cosmiko Ling)

Pairing: Tezuka x Fuji
Disclaimer: I do not own the Prince of Tennis or any of its characters. This is a non-profit fanfiction written by a fan for the enjoyment of other fans.
Summary: Their views toward love were far too different. Perhaps, their relationship was doomed to fail from the start.
A/N: It's one of my rare ZukaFuji's! (Don't usually write ZukaFuji for all that I ♥ them. 3) Spur of the moment fic. Though, quite some thought has been given into the characterisation.

Perhaps their relationship had been doomed to fail from the start.

The view they held towards the thin thread tying them together - the thread that might be called love - was far too different.

Tezuka should have seen it from the beginning. The way Fuji had approached their relationship had been ridiculous. All the subtle seductions. Light brushes, playful touches, meaningful glances. Did he even know what he was doing then?

Naturally, Tezuka hadn't been the least bit tempted by Fuji at that time. He wouldn't call it normal or abnormal to like someone of the same gender; rather, he used the word "naturally" because he was simply a fourteen-year-old whose values were influenced vastly by his family and surroundings. A relationship with another of the same gender had never been considered, and he didn't see the need to consider it; that was all there was to it.

Unlike the numerous females who confessed their undying love to him, Fuji had never verbally declared any feelings of liking toward him. Probably, they hadn't existed then. If they had and those gestures were a declaration of affection, then his telling him to stop them could have been considered a rejection. Not that he had given it too much thought at that time.

It was after they met in university that the deepening of their relationship truly began - or continued, depending on how one looked at it. They had somewhat lost contact in the later half of high school, only seeing each other once a year in the 200X Seigaku regulars annual gathering.

They had met in the second week after the semester began. Although they were studying different courses, their timetables coincidentally often seem to end at around the same time, which resulted in them frequently taking the same train home. It wasn't as if they went home together in Junior High, but somehow, Tezuka thought that it felt like "old days"; he felt strangely reminiscent.

On the ride home, they usually looked out of the window at the monotonous scenery, watching countless telephone poles and the wires hung between them fly by. They chatted lightly, usually with Fuji filling the silence by recounting his day or past few days, depending on how long it had been since their last meeting. Fuji still felt like the same Fuji, with his gentle soothing smiles, his laidback demeanour and his liking for amusing himself through teasing others. He felt more mature though. Through his words, through the episodes he recounted, Tezuka could sense that he was becoming more reliable, understanding how not to carry a joke too far, to restrain himself from causing too much harm with malicious attacks spurred from abrash anger. Everything changes with time. Tezuka thought he preferred this Fuji.

In the later part of their second year, Fuji asked him if he wanted to share an apartment near the university. His sister had recently gotten married, tremendously relieved to do so just before hitting 30. Tezuka only heard from Fuji that her husband had a very successful career like her and that she was living with her husband's family. His brother, Yuuta had moved into the on-campus hostels in the university at which he was studying. And now that his mother had moved to live with his father for an unknown length of time, Fuji had the house to himself and decided to lease it out and move into a smaller apartment flat instead.

Tezuka had declined. He was an only child and was aware that his parents and grandfather felt happier seeing him around at home. However, as they moved into their third year, Tezuka found himself struggling with the heavy workload of his course. He thought hard and a possible solution flashed across his mind as he recalled the offer Fuji had made a few months ago. No other alternative solution that came to him after that seemed as viable.

So he called Fuji, his thumb slowly pushing down the buttons displaying the unfamiliar string of numbers of Fuji's mobile phone. After a brief exchange of greetings, he asked straightforwardedly if Fuji's offer was still available. Fuji hesitated for a moment, before responding affirmatively.

"Do you have someone staying with you currently?" Tezuka had asked, sensing something amiss.

"Oh, that person hasn't been paying his share of the rent for the past two months now. The landlord knows that this sort of arrangement can't be sustained and would chase him out even if I don't anyway," Fuji said, laughing the matter off lightly.

"Alright."

Tezuka moved into the small apartment Fuji had rented over the weekend, assuring his family that he would call them often through silent nods to his mother's worried requests.

Tezuka's first day of the new week since he moved into Fuji's apartment ended at a rather late hour. He bought takeaway food and headed back to the apartment to eat his dinner. Coincidentally, Fuji had also ordered takeaway and had just begun eating when Tezuka reached the apartment. Fuji chuckled as he saw the white plastic bag, on which the logo of a commonly found eatery was printed, in Tezuka's hand, and suggested having one person buying for the both of them in future. They ate dinner together. Fuji asked about Tezuka's day and began to talk about his own. As he listened to Fuji speak, Tezuka suddenly felt overwhelmed by a heartwarming feeling of familiarity.

They often took the same train home together in their first year. Though less often in the second year because fewer of their days had schedules that coincided, they still met on the train regularly; that was, until Fuji moved houses and stopped taking the train all together. He couldn't figure out the empty feeling he had felt after that, and thus, pushed it aside; he just couldn't be bothered to give too much thought to it. He realised now, how much he had looked forward to the conversations he shared with Fuji on the train ride home.

The day after the examinations for their final semester of university had ended, Tezuka confessed his love for Fuji.

What was love? With only one short, hardly-considered-successful experience of a relationship in High school, Tezuka couldn't be sure that he knew what love was any better than he had in Junior High. He only understood that Fuji was a person who he had gradually grown to admire, respect and look forward to spending time with. Was that love?

Fuji was initially taken aback by Tezuka's confession. And then, his eyes crinkled up as he smiled, "I've always liked Tezuka."

It was Tezuka's turn to be surprised as he wondered, since junior high?

Before he could ask Fuji, the other had taken a step forward and delivered a light peck on his thin lips, before stepping back once more.

Suddenly feeling his face and neck getting extraordinarily hot, Tezuka stared at Fuji who was laughing softly as he said teasingly, "Tezuka looks so cute when he blushes."

But then, if Fuji had told him that he liked him in junior high, Tezuka would certainly have rejected him outright. And where would they be then...

Though, where were they now?

Tezuka slowly slid down the wall against which his back was leaning, till he could sit down on the cold tiled floor. He stared at the smashed pot of cactus lying but a metre or two away from him.

The life they shared had not been hit with great, exciting ups and downs; rather, it had been sweet and considerably smooth-going. They had both managed to find jobs in their respective fields of study. They had began taking turns to cook, aware that eating takeaway or convenience food daily was hardly healthy nor a wise long-term plan. Tezuka found Fuji's cooking delightful, especially for one whose own tastebuds were so peculiar. Rough patches were few, but when one was hit with one, the other would be there to support him.

It had been but a few years, and suddenly, Fuji demanded a breakup.

They had gotten into an argument. It was one of the few times that they even quarrelled - Tezuka often gave in to Fuji. Tezuka realised that Fuji could be painfully biting when he was ruffled - though he had witnessed Fuji's treatment of others who had stepped on his or his loved ones' toes before, he hadn't personally experienced it till now. Then Fuji ignored him, turning away to make a phonecall on his mobile phone. Tezuka was enraged, so angry that as he swung his arm out in agitation, he accidentally struck the precious cactus Fuji had placed in the middle of the dining table and swept it right off the surface. The crash made Fuji turn around. Switching off his phone and sliding its cover over the keypad, he stared at him for a long moment, then left the apartment without a further word.

The well-oiled main door swung noiselessly on its hinges in his wake.

The icy air typical of a winter night drifted in from the open door, its tendrils curling around Tezuka's skin.

Their views toward a relationship were too different. Tezuka proceeded cautiously and tried to ensure that the other was indeed the person he liked before beginning a relationship. Fuji was much more relaxed. Perhaps he simply couldn't be bothered, as he couldn't be bothered with so many things in life, as he couldn't be bothered to play tennis seriously a long time ago, Tezuka thought bitterly. While Tezuka believed in relationships lasting for a lifetime, Fuji didn't seem to share his view, from the words he spat out, I don't believe in eternal relationships. We no longer love each other, it's time to move on.

Tezuka had glared at him. He said it so easily, to move on. Fuji's problem was that he treated love too lightly. Love wasn't something that one could be laidback about, one should be serious all the time! Fuji didn't seem to understand that. It was probably why at a mere age of fourteen, he was able to think that he liked Tezuka.

Tezuka shivered slightly from the cold. He got up to his feet, walking to the door to close it.

Fuji had stormed out without a jacket and in his slippers. How senseless can he get, Tezuka thought, letting out an irritable sigh. But as his partner, he had an obligation to ensure his well-being. Tezuka got a jacket from Fuji's room, pulled one on himself and stepped out into the corridor, closing the door lightly behind him.

Fuji was not in the corridor. Tezuka made his way downstairs but still saw no sign of Fuji. Tezuka climbed back up the stairs to lock the door so that he could travel further to search for Fuji. To his alarm, the main door was opened.

Hurriedly entering the apartment, slipping off his shoes and stepping into the living room, he was just in time to catch a man with messy black hair stepping out of Fuji's bedroom.

"Strange. Telling me to come to pick him up and then disappearing when I arrive," the man muttered to himself.

"Who are you?" Tezuka questioned sharply.

The messy-haired man looked up, apparently snapping out of his thoughts. "Don't you remember me, Tezuka?"

He did look familiar. He seems to be Rikkai Dai Junior High section's--

"Kirihara Akaya. Where's Fuji? He's not in his room nor anywhere here, from what I see."

"He left the house. I'm just about to go out to look for him," Tezuka said coldly.

"Oh I see."

"How do you know that that is his room?"

"It was his room when I lived here."

Tezuka stared at Kirihara. Kirihara used to live here?! Or was he... the fellow who was chased out for not paying 2 months of rent?

Fuji's proclaimation, I don't believe in eternal relationships, rang in his ears... Obviously, he didn't.

"Please get out. I'm locking the door," Tezuka said.

Kirihara shrugged and sauntered to the door.

Tezuka waited for him to put on his shoes and step out, a silent glare in his direction, which Kirihara completely ignored, the only signal of his impatience.

Tezuka turned the key till he heard the dull click that indicated that the door was locked. Kirihara stood behind him in the corridor. Tezuka turned and walked past Kirihara without the slightest acknowledgement of his presence, heading directly to where his bicycle was secured. Kirihara trodded wordlessly behind him.

"Oi Tezuka, where are you going to look for him?" Kirihara finally spoke as Tezuka mounted his bicycle. "I'll search somewhere else in my car."

"There's no need to. I'll find him," Tezuka replied simply, and pushed down on the pedal.

Fuji was not on the first street which Tezuka cycled down, nor the second, nor the third, nor the fourth... Tezuka was still cycling when he felt the phone in his jacket pocket vibrating. Tezuka stopped by the pavement, resting one foot on the ground to keep his bicycle balanced.

An unknown number. Tezuka's finger moved to the Cancel button, but upon second thought, brought the phone to his ear. Yuuta's voice sounded, informing Tezuka that his older brother was at his place.

"Aniki said to stop looking for him and go home. He'll return to pack his stuff and move out as he told you before."

Tezuka gritted his teeth. "Get him to the phone," he commanded. There was some noise. He could hear muffled voices in the background. Yuuta was probably relaying Tezuka's demand to his brother with his hand over the mouthpiece.

After waiting for almost half a minute, Tezuka was ready to hang up, expecting that he was merely waiting for Yuuta's apologetic reply. Thus, when he finally heard the word "Tezuka" uttered clearly in that familiar gentle voice, he was certainly caught by surprised.

Tezuka quickly got over his surprise. "Fuji. Come back home," he said simply. It wasn't a plea, it wasn't even a request; it was a quiet order.

"No."

Tezuka felt the veins on his forehead threatening to burst. "Come back home," he repeated.

"Our relationship is over, Tezuka. I'm not going back." The voice over the phone was calm but firm.

Tezuka suddenly felt weak. He let his other foot drop to the wet ground. Somehow, those words felt a lot heavier now when they were spoken this calmly, than when they were yelled out earlier in the evening. "Fuji--"

"Ne Tezuka, do you believe that a relationship can continue without love?"

"Yes," Tezuka answered without the slightest hint of hesitation.

"I see," Fuji paused for a moment. "I don't believe that it's possible."

Tezuka did not respond. He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure what Fuji was trying to say. Fuji always liked speaking in circles; he enjoyed seeing whether and how people reached the conclusion - the point he was trying to make.

"Why are you outside searching for me?"

"What?" Tezuka uttered, distraught.

"Are you worried about me, Tezuka? Are you worried that I would freeze to death on the streets without warm clothing?"

Isn't that why I came out to find you?

"Or did you do it simply because you had to, because you felt that you were obliged to seek me out, that you had a responsibility to bring me warm clothing and get me safely back home?"

Fuji paused, leaving a long moment of silence before continuing.

"Tezuka. You no longer love me. You're only feeling a sense of responsibility to maintain our relationship."

"Perhaps our relationship was doomed to fail from the start..." Fuji's voice sounded despondent... somewhat surreal.

The second extended period of silence was broken by Tezuka.

"I... see..." It was as if someone had just cut out a second window in his empty, doorless room, and suddenly, he was able to see an entirely different scenery from the one out of the first. Tezuka hesitated before continuing, "...Is there anything I can say to change your mind?"

"Yes. Tell me honestly that you love me," Fuji stated simply.

Tezuka didn't respond. After a short while, he heard a light laugh at the other end of the receiver.

"Maa... Tezuka has never been able to tell lies, isn't it." Contrary to the laugh that had preceded the statement, Fuji's voice sounded dejected.

"Well then," Fuji spoke again, his tone once again lighthearted, betraying no sign of the dejection audible but moments ago, yet, somewhat faraway. "I'll hang up now. Bye."

"Un," Tezuka uttered, because there was nothing else for him to say. "Bye."

Tezuka slipped his cellphone back into his jacket pocket. He renewed his grip on the handlebars, one foot already back on the pedal when his eyes fell upon Fuji's jacket tucked securely in the front of the bicycle between the handlebars.

As if in a daze, Tezuka sat on his bicycle, unable to summon the will to move, gazing at the beige-coloured jacket for a long time.

Date written: 14 October 2005
Date modified: 9 November 2005

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