Life's A Stage

Summary: The final year of high-school has come, bringing many new things. Tezuka Kunimitsu finds himself saddled with decisions for his future, tennis, and an exchange student who is staying with his family...

Author's Note: My 1st POT fic, please be nice! I don't usually write fanfic!

This story is in AU form. I know that the story may sound very confusing especially for people who have read my original work in my fiction press account, The World Beneath but it's simply because I have recycled the names of some places and characters, however, this has no relation to the actual TWB series. Since the old fic was dead and I liked the main character's name, I decided to use it here, although I know it doesn't really fit, but no, I definitely do not intend to create a Mary-Sue here. I subscribe to the fact that while Mary-Sues are Original Characters, not all OCs are MSs, and I intended to prove with this fic that that not all fic with OCs are bad.

--- PROLOGUE ---

The sun was blazing high in the almost cloudless sky one particularly warm spring day. Two figures ran up and down the court, seemingly undeterred by the blistering heat, not caring the blue and white backs of their polo shirts were soaked through. All they knew was the rackets in they gripped, the net between them, and that a point had to be scored soon, no matter what. Though the rest of the court was deserted, the atmosphere was choked with the intensity sparking between them, an unmistakable strong desire- to win.

The game was almost flawless, both players showing their skills to the fullest. The ball had not ceased moving, at least not for the last fifteen minutes or so, neither did the speed, filling the court with a steady constant sound, for the rhythm they had worked up was quite similar to the arms of a clock's pendulum. Both players seemed to match each other in strange harmony.

However, one thing that looked odd of this serious scene was that one of the players had the advantage despite their seemingly well- rehearsed game. He was noticeably less tired then his opponent who was pretty much running around the court to counter his strong serves, and looked as if he was barely moving at all from his spot on the court. No matter how the other player tried to lead the ball wayward, it always came right back to his personal radius. And he'd simply move only one of his feet into a different position and hit it back. It was as if he were a magnet drawing the tennis ball to him.

He then repositioned himself in a way that the other player seemed to recognise, for his opponent's eyes had widened ever so slightly and started to dash forward for the back of the court.

He swung his arm as the other started quickening his steps. The ball sailed through the air, barely missing the net in a graceful arch. His opponent lunged, racket extended as far as he could reach. It was too late. The ball dropped to the ground and suddenly rolled a few inches towards the net. The edge of the racket stopped just a mere centimetre away.

The one who lost the point picked himself off the ground, plucking onto his head, his cap that had fallen during his incredible lunge. He shook his head as if in disbelief then looked at the victor with a unnaturally wide eye, lips curving into a confident smirk though he had lost.

The main offset to the whole picture was when they met at the net to shake hands. The height different between them was very obvious, the winner being an inch or two over six feet and the other was barely past five. Also, it appeared that age wise, the winner looked a good five years or so older than the shorter boy. An onlooker might think this might be unfair, maybe even a case of bullying a junior student. But if you were following the high-school tennis scene in Kanto then you would not be fazed. One of the younger boy's earlier serves had sent the ball flying into the fence, a sizable impression burned onto it by the friction from the ball. Clearly this boy contained more strength and even secrets that met the eye and his opponent knew it well.

"4 to 6. Beat me next time." The way the taller player spoke was as if he were issuing a command.

"Mada Mada dane" came the confident reply.

With that, they walked out of the court and were about to go their separate ways when the shorter one called out.

"Buchou. Same time next week?"

"No, I will be busy. I will tell you later."

"Whatever."

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The train station was a mad house, with not only the usual suit clad salary-men and women during the lunch hour, but also groups of youths, mostly high-schoolers on their spring break, milling around waiting for friends. Some were chatting, while others stared at the tiny screens of their mobile phones as they sent text messages, and there were those that managed to do both.

Amidst this scene of chaos, a lone person in a pale lavender shirt stood by himself next to a pillar not far from the main exit gates. His eyes roved over the numerous exits from time to time, and sometimes flickered to his wristwatch. It was pretty obvious that he was waiting for someone. The impassive expression on his face and imposing height of 6'2 made him look beyond his actual seventeen years of age.

The mass of arrivals was clearing off and the crowd was thinning till only a handful of people remained. The man's eyes flicked briefly to the clock nearby. If anyone could read his mind, they would see it struggling between calm and annoyed. Five minutes later, it would have been going into anger and to some extent, worry. Where was she? His face however, maintained its solemn expression.

Another glance at his watched showed that the girl was a good twenty minutes late. For a moment he wondered if she had gotten lost, as the station had numerous exits, and even seasoned travellers got confused from time to time by the labyrinth of corridors. He took out his mobile phone and was about to flip it open when a medium pitched female voice interrupted him.

"Excuse me. Are you Tezuka-san?"

A girl with long black hair tied up into a ponytail stood in front of him. She looked flustered and was slightly out of breadth. He did not realise that he had not replied until she apologised and started to leave, obviously thinking she had made a mistake.

He was surprised at how fast she walked but his long strides managed to catch up to her easily.

"Stop."

When she made no sign of hearing him, he ventured. "Ano, Corellith-san?"

She turned and he saw that her eyes were brown like thick chocolate.

"You're Tezuka?"

"Yes, I am."

Her eyes bore a slightly confused look and then she smiled, a look of comprehension her face.

"I see. You must be their son. I thought your parents were picking me up."

"My father has been posted to the States for a year."

"I see…"

"My mother has gone with him too… for a vacation of sorts."

"Ah, but…"

"That means you're in my care."

"I see…"

"Follow me."

Before she could say anymore, he wordlessly walked towards the exit they needed to take, dragging one of her suitcases along. They took a bus which stopped about ten minutes walking distance to his house, also her home for that year.

Tezuka showed her into a decent sized bedroom at the top of the stairs. "This is our guestroom. You'll be staying here. I hope there're no problems with it. "

"No, this is fine. It looks cosy."

"Dinner is at seven. I hope ramen is fine with you. The bathroom is the first door on the left of the stairs if you need it."

"Ok. That's good…" she put her first bag on the bed for unpacking. "By the way, do you need help preparing dinn…er… hey, where did he go…"

Her housemate was no where to be seen. Jackasa sighed. So much for being friendly.

Dinner was a rather silent affair. Jackasa looked at her host's impassive face, feeling slightly disconcerted, uncomfortable and confused as to why her host was treating her so coldly. Not that she minded the silence but some conversation, any at all would be nice. "Your host family will be like your family. You will enjoy many activities and outings together during weekends and holidays." – Well, that is what her exchange brochure had said. Even though she hadn't been expecting all hugs and smiles, this was somewhat disappointing to tell the truth. Tezuka was probably even more quiet then she. But she also knew that she shouldn't judge him from what little interaction they had made so far. Perhaps he was one of those people who were wary of strangers but was really energetic and talkative around their friends and people who they were comfortable with. Although trying to picture Tezuka smile was strangely hard.

Ever since he had left her to her own devices, Tezuka had not said a word to her. Why? Could he still be upset with her late arrival? It wasn't her fault; the train had been slightly delayed, and she hadn't been able to run since she had a big suitcase and two smaller bags in tow… and the way she had acted upon seeing him… she hadn't been the most pleasant person… when he had brought up the situation with his parents her tiredness and surprise had reduced her to giving rather unintelligible one-word answers. That was probably it, she concluded. I didn't exactly give the best first expression. Well, time to right it.

"I'm sorry I was late just now." She blurted out, shattering the silence. "My train was delayed… I did get to my station on time though. Didn't they give notice on your side?"

Tezuka made a sound that sounded like "Hnn…" but other than that he didn't respond.

"It's the truth! I'm really sorry. I really am. And I was expecting your parents to pick me up. If I hadn't remembered what you looked like from that photo in the file I would've missed you entirely… and…"

"Corellith-san, Stop...I accept your apology." He said. "And for the record, I was not angry at you, but you could've at least called knowing you were delayed."

"Oh phew that's good to hear. It's just that you haven't said much so… never mind… And yeah, I guess I was too busy panicking that I'd be late. I shouldn't have assumed they'd announce everything at your end…"

Before she could say anymore, he put out his hand, gesturing for her to stop. "That's fine. Just eat your food before it gets cold." With that, he proceeded with his own meal.

After a few minutes the silence became unbearable again. Jackasa wondered why because she was used to living by herself- Not with someone else staring at you half the time though… She decided she needed get some conversation going at least, even if she was the only one talking. "By the way, Tezuka, You may call me Jackasa. My sirname's a bit of a mouthful." she smiled. "That's what everyone calls me, even my sensei at JEDA. So you may do so as well. Though I know it's the custom in Japan not to go by first name…"

"Fine, Jackasa." It sounded a little awkward coming from him, but at least he tried. Not many people got her name right the first time, but she couldn't help the fact that she had been named after a character in a fantasy novel. She smiled and persevered. She was going to get her housemate to open up whether he liked it or not.

"And what about you? If you prefer I'd call you Kunimitsu since Tezuka's also your dad's name and it might be confusing…"

"Tezuka. Everyone calls me Tezuka."

"I see. Alright then."

…So much for that.

The only time Tezuka spoke to her in the next hour was a curt "Thank you" when she helped to wash the dishes.

Later, she was about to sleep when there was a knock on her door. He stood there, his steely expression unwavering as he looked at her.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm usually like this… so if I make give the impression that I was angry or cold, be rest assured that I'm not."

Well... I guess that could do for an apology... She decided and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Oh well, it's in the past now… oh, by the way, I got something for you and your family… I little thank-you gift for hosting me, it's nothing much but… Tezuka?" She looked up from rifling in one of her bags to find that he was no longer at the doorway.

She peered around the door to see that he was already halfway to his room. Why did he keep doing that! Still, refusing to let that get her spirits down she shouted down the corridor after his retreating figure.

"Oi, Tezuka! Sweet dreams!"

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To Jackasa luck, Tezuka seemed to be less tensed around her in the following days to come. Although it was not an easy thing to tell as he constantly wore that stoic expression on his face, and that every time he spoke, (if he did at all), it would be no more than a few words. Half the time when she did something, she found herself nervously wondering if she was violating any house-rules or something and constantly looked to him for approval first.

While she did not mind the lack of attention, she also could not stand not having someone to talk to, and began to formulate a plan. She wanted to know more about her host for she did not wish her situation to be as if she were staying with a perfect stranger. Thinking back to the brief she had received on her host family, she vaguely remembered that it stated Tezuka Kunimitsu was the vice president of the student committee and held the position of captain in a sports team. When she had first read it, she had the mental picture of one of a student who was well liked and constantly surrounded by his peers. The stereotypical jock you saw in movies, good looking, active and popular in the student body, more often than not armed with a personal cheer squad and maybe even with his female counterpart in tow.

Maybe, she thought, he was one of those people who acted different in and out of the public eye. One who kept many things behind his smiles.

But school did start the following week; and Tezuka Kunimitsu defied all her expectations within the first day. He was not only one of the top students at Seishun Gakuen, his serious, stoic façade extended to pretty much everyone, and he was as nerdy as a star pupil could be. He had started studying the few days before school reopened so he would have a headset above the rest. Only two things about her earlier presumed profile of him were accurate. That he did turn heads where ever he went, though it was more of respect than anything, and that he did command the attention was from much of Seigaku's female population. Listen to the gaggle and gossip going around, she was beginning to see what attracted them to him. Despite his serious countenance, he was certainly above average in terms of looks, and while reserved, remained civil and polite when he spoke to his peers and teachers.

"Hi… Jackasa wasn't it?"

Jackasa snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of the gentle sounding male voice. Looking up she found a boy smiling back at her. Tall and thin, he looked more effeminate from most of his counterparts, but she had a strange feeling felt he might be quite a bit stronger than he looked. He had light brown hair bangs which covered his eyes slightly, and possessed a well-toned svelte figure that many girls would die for.

Searching her memory, Jackasa could not seem place where she had seen him before and she smiled sheepishly, bowing her head slightly in apology.

"Yes, that's me! And I'm sorry, you are?"

"I'm Fuji Syuusuke, but just Fuji is fine. I was in your English Lit class on Tuesday. I remembered you were new around here and thought I'd come over and say hi."

"Fuji… Syuusuke… nope, I don't recall… sorry, it's just that I've been bombarded with so many names… I've not really been successful remembering all of them so far..."

"No worries. It's only your first week after all." Fuji smiled. "By the way, you've got an interesting name. It sounds like it came from a fantasy story."

"Actually, it did. So I'm told…"
"Sa… you mean you have never asked them? I mean, with a name like that I'd be curious…"

"I don't really know my parents actually… it's a long story. I shan't bore you with the details."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say something I shouldn't?" Fuji's looked a little worried.

"No, no, it's fine. Basically I was left at an orphanage with a letter, and that was the name they had given me… it's complicated… like I said, long story."

"It sounds interesting though, you've got me piqued now."

"Perhaps some other time then." She smiled.

"Say," Fuji commented. "The tryouts for the clubs open next week. Anything you're interested in particular? Seigaku's sports are pretty strong, for your information."

"Well, I've had more than enough sporting experience in my old school already. I'm here to concentrate on my studies."

"Ne? But sports are part of the experience here. What sport did you take at JEDA? Oh wait, you're guys do mainly martial arts right."

"Yups. In fact I still have to go back to the main Tokyo school to train twice a week. I seriously wonder if I'll have the time to join another club while I'm here."

"Wow, that sounds pretty hectic. Well then, maybe you could consider a leisurely club, like crafts or something."

"Crafts? Me? I'm not the kind of girl who can sit and knit a sweater for a few hours, but yeah, I may consider joining a more 'leisurely' club as you put it. And which club are you in Fuji?"

If possible, his grin got even wider. "Care to guess?"

"Hm," she pondered for a bit. "Considering you mentioned sports first, I'll say you're in one of the sports clubs."

"Correct, I'm in Tennis actually. Tryouts are next Wednesday if you're interested."

"Cool, but I'm afraid I majorly suck at tennis. I've some friends who play tennis and they'd probably agree!"

"Oh, really, which schools do they go to? Perhaps I have heard of them?"

"Haha, nah, there must be thousands of high-school tennis players."

"Still… I might have…"

"Oh, the teacher's here! We'll continue this later!"

Fuji found himself waved away, and went to take his seat for the upcoming class. Out of the corner of his eye he observed the new girl with the strange name and couldn't help but feel that she had deliberately stopped the conversation. He wondered why, there wasn't anything weird with knowing other high-school tennis players, was there? He shrugged off the thought and grinned to himself as the class stood to greet the Himuro-sensei. This semester looked like it was going to be an interesting one.