Title: P. S. I Yandere You
Pairing: Perfect Pair and Alpha Pair
Summary: There are two types of Yandere: Fuji and Yukimura.
The first time Fuji met Tezuka, he was seven and it was raining.
He was completely soaked to the bone and he was shivering. His brown locks were dripping and sticking to his face while his clothes were completely muddy and wet, almost like a second skin to his cold pale ones at how much it clung to it.
He was sitting at one of the bench of the park and he stares at the emptiness of the playground, wondering why it had to rain now of all days. He refused to move from his seat and continued staring at the bare park three blocks away from his home.
This was supposed to be the day he teaches Yuuta how to play tennis and the stupid rain ruined it—his brother is probably snuggling the warmth of his blanket right at this very instance while he refused to move even an inch from his seat on the bench he sat.
"Stupid rain." He hisses quietly before the downpour suddenly does not pelt so cruelly on his skin anymore.
Surprise, he looked up and saw small hand holding the umbrella shielding him. The small hand lead to an arm then to a shoulder then to a slim neck then to a frown and he almost back away from its disapproving line before he continued staring up, up, up and all the way to the sharp brown orbs that hid behind rimless glasses.
"Hello." He said in a small quiet voice, a smile pasting on his drenched face.
"What are you doing here?" The boy had asked and he sounded so mature for his age, he noted.
"I got caught up in the rain." He replied, smile still in place. The boy's other hand lifted up from his side and cup his face in the gentlest touch—he almost wrenched his face away when he felt an odd flutter within his chest but resisted doing so—and he saw the frown deepens and he asked himself if it's possible for a child to acquire an ability of frowning when most of the children he knows whine and grin and laugh and cry but not frown, never did they frown.
But then again he knows a limited number of children around.
"You're freezing." The boy said in a concerned tone before he felt the hand on his face slid down to grab his hand. He struggled when the boy pulled him out of his seat and into the street, "Where are we going?"
"To my house." He simply said.
"Why?" He asked in genuine curiosity, staring at the linked hands of theirs.
"Because you're wet and you must get out of those clothes before you get a cold." The logical explanation took him by surprise again before he replaced the startled expression that passed his face with his usual smile—a quirk of the lips that heaven seems to pull upwards.
They had walked quite a few blocks, closer and closer towards his own house. He doesn't stop or tell the boy when they had passed his or even commented how this unknown boy's home was the large unoccupied Japanese house next to their own large one, though modern in its design unlike the one they are currently entering.
He didn't know that there were new occupants next to theirs until now.
"Tadaima." The boy called out and he heard a soft padding of footsteps before he saw a kind looking woman step out of one of the door and neared them with a soft call of the boy's name.
"Kunimitsu, welcome home." She said before her steps falter as she took note of his presence, "Oh my! You're drencher than the rain!"
He wondered if it's that possible at all but shook it out of his mind when the boy—Kunimitsu, he thought to himself—asked his mother to fetch him a towel and a pair of new dry clothes.
"You're an odd boy, Mitsu." He saw the crinkling of the nose of the bespectacled youth. 'Kunimitsu' sharply looked at him, "Don't call me that."
He waved his cold hands dismissively as they waited for Kunimitsu's mother to come.
"I think it's a cute name." He said in a childish delight, his half-closed eyes creasing into a gleeful smile.
"No. It's not." Kunimitsu defended before he paused and asked him for the very first time as if it's the last of his priority, "What's your name again?"
"Syusuke. Fuji Syusuke." He said and saw the woman walked towards them with the requested items. He took the towel gratefully, bowed and thanked the woman. He saw her eyes wrinkling into crescents in pleasure for his adorable politeness.
"Syusuke?" Kunimitsu frowned, "Isn't that a boy's name?"
It was the second thing he learnt about the boy that day. The first being sharp and the second being a gentleman who can't resist a damsel in distress. But it was not until seven years later that he would tease the boy about it—and how it would always be him he can't resist.
He paused from his toweling, turned to his side, and observed the confusion behind the glasses Kunimitsu wore.
"I'm a boy." He quietly said and he heard Kunimitsu's mother made a small gasp as if noticing it for the first time as well.
He doesn't take it an insult anymore on how people could easily mistake him for a girl. His mother had always told him how pretty he was and though he had adamantly disagreed on the term used to describe him, he steadily got used to it from the frequency it was attached to his name.
Pretty Syusuke. Pretty Fuji.
Sometimes, he still gets annoyed at people calling him that. But in the years to come, his every fiber craves for Tezuka to call him that again and again and again.
His grin even widens when Kunimitsu took a small step back in surprise, "But you look like a girl. And mother said to always help girls in need."
But he wasn't a girl and he wasn't in need—he doesn't tell him that at all, especially the last part for some unknown reason. He only turned back to the adult and innocently asked if he could use the bathroom to change.
He was given a small yukata—one that is used by girls. He felt his lips dipped down but he shrugged and clumsily wore the clothes on.
When he stepped out, Kunimitsu's mother was there waiting for him. She knelt down in front of him and carefully adjusted the yukata until it was a perfect fit and it no longer slid down his petite frame.
"This was mine when I was little. I'm glad that it fits you." Kunimitsu's mother had told him as she finishes adjusting the clothes he wore.
"Thank you…" He quietly said before he added, "What shall I call you so that I won't be rude by addressing you as Mitsu's Mom?"
He heard her laugh behind the lavender sleeves of her own yukata before he answered him, "You can call me Ayana-chan or Obaa-chan."
He peered at her curiously before he tested the name on his tongue, "Obaa-chan."
Ayana giggled softly at his doing, pulling him into a hug, "You're so beautiful, Syusuke-kun. I really thought you were a girl."
She released him from his embrace and led him to Kunimitsu's bedroom.
"Kunimitsu, Syusuke-kun is here." She pushed him gently in and quietly close the door. He saw the bespectacled boy reading a book and he walked towards him, careful not to trip over the yukata.
"It suits you." Kunimitsu said over the book and he beamed him a smile, "Thank you."
He sat himself besides Kunimitsu, near enough that their shoulder bumped with each other. He looked around the room and saw how clean it was, how meticulously the set of furniture were arranged, and how blue the room was.
Their shoulders brushed in the slightest of ways and he observed the quiet breathing of his new friend, the slightest of glance thrown towards him, and his own fluttering within—he doesn't complain at the strangeness of it all. He basked at the oddity of it—his interest piqued by the stoic peculiarity besides him—the very first time, other than his brother, someone intrigued him to no end.
And Fuji, while seemingly friends with everyone and while everyone likes him, doesn't like nor think that everyone is his friend.
But, he chanced a glance at his new companion, Fuji likes Kunimitsu and he thinks he's his friend.
"I didn't know that this house had been taken." Fuji had said to break the ice and Kunimitsu had closed his book then, "We had moved here a week ago."
"Oh." He replied because his family was out last week—they had only returned a day ago and they had not been informed about Kunimitsu's family moving yet. He was sure that his mother or sister would come here as soon as they heard with a pie to offer the new neighbor as a welcome greeting from the Fuji family.
A doorbell rang and he got up from his comfortable place beside Kunimitsu. Kunimitsu looked at him curiously before standing up as well, "Where are you going?"
"Down." He simply said.
He walked down the stairs and into the hallway where the open door was. His new friend followed him. They saw a young girl talking to Ayana from their view.
It was Yumiko, his sister. And he delighted about how he had guessed right about her coming and the pie on Ayana's hands.
"Syu-chan!" His sister exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"
"Mitsu saved me." His dimples dipped as he smiled some more. He saw his sister tilts her head to the side and stared at his clothes before simply nodding her head, "Saved you from what?"
She humored.
He answered, "From the rain."
He felt Kunimitsu's presence beside him and saw him bowing respectfully towards his sister, "Hello. I'm Tezuka Kunimitsu. Please to meet you."
"How respectful!" Her sister commented and Kunimitsu's mother smiled softly, "He is, isn't he?"
They both talked for a minute or two, his sister Yumiko explaining that they lived next to them before his sister beckoned him towards her and said, "Let's go home now, Syu-chan. Mommy would be worried."
He nodded his head and walked towards her before he paused and turned towards Kunimitsu. The boy raised his brow at him before Fuji kissed his cheek sweetly, "Thank you for saving me from the rain."
He doesn't need saving from the rain but he doesn't tell him that and instead noted the reddening of the bespectacled boy with the deepest of frown's cheeks.
Ayana had squealed in delight and amusement at innocent display of childre.
"You're not a girl." Kunimitsu frowned, "You can't do that."
"I looked like a girl. I could do such a thing." He insisted with a smile before he followed his sister out the Tezuka residence, giving one last beautiful smile towards the mother and son, promising that he'll come back again.
Tezuka doesn't refuse Fuji's promise for he has an inkling he probably would without a doubt.
He doesn't know that Fuji's promise goes beyond just returning to his house. And Fuji doesn't tell him that as well—like some things he would not tell Tezuka in the near future that would began to consist of the two of them courtesy of himself.
Fuji lied on his small bed that day, turned to his side before a small smile that widens as time passes by graced his face.
He touches his lips and the blue eyes he hid opened and glinted in the dimness of his room—like a pair of precious diamonds in the darkest of cave.
"Kunimitsu." He said before he falls asleep and his dreams were plagued by the boy with the sharp brown eyes and deep, deep frowns.
Yukimura had known Sanada ever since he could remember.
He had been a constant presence in his life—a permanent mark. He doesn't remember a time when the mark wasn't present in his memory. And he had to pause when every time he remembers, there would only ever be Sanada. Sanada and him.
Sanada and Yukimura—it would always be about them.
He had always thought that he belongs to him. He had an inkling that Sanada knew but whenever Sanada would forget, he would make him remember—like all those times that Yukimura would only remember him and no one else.
No one else. No one else. Only Sanada. Only ever Sanada.
Their family had always been two sides of a coin and it must be why and how they met but his memory of the first time they ever had encountered each other was hazy. It must be because they had been so young—too young to cherish the precious memories that passed them by.
Yukimura mused that fact, mulled it over his head, and tucked it between the folds of his mind.
"Seiichi." He heard a voice calls him and he turns to see brown eyes under the shadow of raven locks.
He smiled softly at his bed, turning his attention from the grayness of the sky and towards his dear Genichirou. He pats the side of his bed and Sanada obeyed—he always asks himself if the boy could refuse any of his whims.
Personally, he likes the thought of never for the answer to his bored and passing question.
"Genichirou. What are you doing here?" Yukimura asked, eyes crinkling into a delighted smile.
"I heard from mother that you were sick." Sanada had responded, he sat himself to the space that Yukimura had patted. The blue-haired boy observed the distance between them before he sat closer, the warmth seeping out of Sanada's voice beckoning him, "How'd you gotten yourself sick, Seiichi?"
He heard the frown and he wasn't pleased by it. He never likes Sanada frowning.
"Smile, Gen." He reaches out to tug the corner of Sanada's mouth upward, giggling when brown eyes widen a fraction at his action.
"Seiichi." Sanada called out again, took both of his hands from his face and looked at him with concerned pair of eyes, "How did you get sick?"
Yukimura tilted his head to the side as if to think—he searched his brain how he had gotten himself but he only remembers Sanada. And he amusedly thought to himself that if he had told the boy in front of him that, he would probably punish himself even though it was illogical for Sanada to get him sick.
"I got caught up in the rain." The words rolled out of his lips like water.
"Why?" Sanada knitted his brows—Yukimura observed how the creases make him look older than his seven years old age.
"I like the rain."
He doesn't.
He doesn't tell Sanada that it was his fault—no, he said he likes the rain instead even if he doesn't and that he will never like the pelting of water on his skin, penetrating deep inside him. Instead, he smiled gently at his friend, took his hands from Sanada's gentle hold and cup the brunet's tan face—he had been playing tennis too much, he privately told himself.
"But don't you worry, Genichirou." He cooed in his soft tone, "I will get better soon. You go home and pack and get yourself to Osaka and visit your sick aunt."
Sanada paused to wonder how Yukimura knew when he had only heard the news a few hours back. Shaking the confusion out of his system, he frowns and stares at the sad blue eyes of his friend.
If he goes away, Yukimura would be alone.
Yukimura had never gotten around of making any friends other than him. He always wondered why because Yukimura was the nicest person he knew.
Sanada shook his head stubbornly, "No. I already told mother that I won't be going."
"But Gen—" He was cut off when his friend crossed his arms at him.
"You're more important."
And there it was the delighted flutter in his heart—the one thing he had been waiting for his strict dear sweet, sweet Genichirou to say. He stops the smile that blossomed in his delicate beautiful face—he ignores the singing of praises in his head, the repetition of those simple words that send his soul tittering and dancing.
Instead, he tilts his head and sat on his knees, pulling the boy to him as he wraps his arms around the startled boy.
"Oh, Genichirou."
Away from the concerned eyes of Sanada, a slow sickeningly sweet grin began to bloom on Yukimura's lips as he embraced the boy lovingly.
He thinks he's beginning to like the rain in the slightest bit.
TBC…
No, it's not what you're thinking. When I said that there are two types, I don't mean the yandere that would kill the one he loves to guarantee that he's only his and the one that would kill anyone that dares near his beloved. Although, the thought is tempting, I love the pairs too much to kill either Tezuka or Sanada.
The thought made me shiver. There would be killing though! Just not them. So it's clear that Fuji and Yukimura is type two of the yandere type.
So what do I really mean about the summary? *grins mysteriously* It's not much really but surprise, surprise, ha?
Next up is 'when they were eight' chapter!
Hope you enjoy! And please drop a review!