Title: Second Spring
Author: EllipsesBandit
Pairing TezuFuji feat. Hyotei
Rating: PG
Disclaimer:
Konomi still owns all these characters, and he's finally taking some
responsibility for Tezuka and Fuji.
Summary: An entire school year has passed since Tezuka left to study in Germany, but he's finally back for the summer. Now Fuji has to figure out where their relationships stands, which would probably be easier if they weren't both at Jirou's birthday party.
A/N: Originally written for shine as part of Christmas Cacti. Also heavily influenced by Kazuki's idol DVD and Mago Mago Arashi. And tripleberry ice cream for Microgirl, queen of the betas.
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The invitation was shaped like a smiling tennis ball, stripes done in silver glitter and looking surprisingly homemade. Fuji hadn't been expecting it, particularly not two months after the sender's birthday, but that boy never was particularly predictable. The RSVP had a small check box for number attending. Fuji pondered this for a moment before writing a "2," and picking up his phone. It had been a while, but he supposed it was worth a shot…
"Fujiko!" Eiji's voice rang much louder than the phone itself. "Where've you been?"
"Busy," Fuji answered. "But I just got a rather intriguing invitation in the mail and thought you might like to go with me."
"An invitation? To a party?"
"Akutagawa Jirou's, to be precise. Are you busy next Saturday?"
Silence for a moment, before Eiji asked. "Why are you asking me?"
"I thought it'd be fun to go together. And I've barely seen you this summer so--"
"No, I mean why are you asking me You know Buchou's home."
Fuji sighed. Eiji never was one for beating around the bush. "I'd heard that rumor, yes."
"So? Have you talked to him?"
"Briefly. He's been spending time with his family, so we haven't had a chance to meet up yet."
"The family that lives 6 blocks from yours? The family that was ready to adopt you before Buchou left? That family?"
Fuji gritted his teeth. "Yes, that family. Eiji, Tezuka wouldn't enjoy a party at Hyotei. That's all."
"Since when has Buchou not enjoying something stopped you? Don't be weird, Fuji. Call him. He'll go if you ask him."
"Eiji--"
"Hang up with me and call him. Then call me back and tell me what he said. And if you don't, I'm going to." The line clicked dead, and Fuji glared at the blank view screen. He should have known better than to ask Eiji. Maybe Taka-san or Saeki would let him get away with an excuse like that, but Eiji never would. Then again, maybe that's why Fuji called him in the first place.
"Can't be helped, I guess," Fuji sighed, tentatively pressing the button he'd never bothered removing from his speed dial.
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Jirou'd offered to send a car to pick up both Tezuka and Fuji, but Tezuka asked to meet Fuji there. It was probably an effort to avoid being shut in an enclosed space with just an awkward silence between them for the drive to Jirou's estate. In any case, Fuji didn't protest, but waited outside the gates as the other guests filed in. He recognized only a few people from the tennis team and just smiled politely at them as they passed. Tezuka never used to be late…
"Waiting for someone?" a deep voice asked from a little too nearby for Fuji's tastes.
"Oshitari-kun. It's been awhile. Tezuka's meeting me here, actually."
"He's back then? Atobe will be pleased."
Oshitari had this way of speaking that made everything sound like an innuendo. However, since he seemed to use the same voice to talk to everyone from his doubles partner to the man who worked the concession stands at the tennis courts, Fuji tried not to be offended. "For the summer at least, though I'm not sure if he'll be up to playing yet."
"You're not sure? "
Fuji smiled, pretending he hadn't just given away that he and Tezuka had barely spoken in the last nine months. "It's up to him, of course."
"Of course. Well, I suggest you head inside before the main events start. Jirou usually doesn't spare any expense on entertainment. Particularly since he's been forced to hold it some two months late.
"I noticed that. Why the delay?"
Oshitari adjusted his glasses. "He's been in Europe with his family acting like a proper heir since the school year began, so he's bound to have some pent-up energy. Last year he made the team race in hot air balloons. I assume if Atobe is going to get airsick again this year, you'll want to see it."
"I'll be in as soon as Tezuka arrives." Just as Fuji said this, a familiar car came into sight at the end of Jirou's lengthy driveway.
Oshitari nodded and headed through the open gates to where the noise of the party echoed from the side of the house.
Fuji held his breath as Tezuka stepped out of the car. It wasn't fair, he decided, but at least now he knew how to detail with the injustice that was Tezuka Kunimitsu. For anyone else, he would have planned a conversation, loaded it with however many agendas he was currently working with, predetermined what he wanted to the other party to say, but he hadn't bothered attempting to create any of that for Tezuka since the two of them were second years. The moment Tezuka stepped in view, Fuji always lost coherent speech for a minute or so anyway.
Tezuka didn't look much different. His hair was a little longer, his glasses new (a gold rim this time). He wore a sober, forest-green yukata (the invite specified a traditional dress code) that brought out the tint in his hazel eyes. Fuji tried to read him out of habit, but he was clearly out of practice. Anyway, he was too possessed by the conflicting desires to either shove Tezuka against the car and kiss him until his lungs gave out or run away before Tezuka noticed how completely unbalanced and insecure Fuji was with this arrangement to do more than a cursory analysis.
"Hello," Tezuka nodded, apparently rooted to the spot just outside the sedan's door.
"Hi." Fuji used his old smile like a security blanket. What were they supposed to do? Hug? Shake hands? Make out in the back of the car?
That last option would have proved an awkward one as Tezuka's father's head popped out of the side window.
"Fuji-kun! How've you been?"
Fuji bowed lightly. "Busy with schoolwork mostly. It's lovely to see you again, Tezuka-san."
"Ayana wants you to come by for dinner again sometime while Kunimitsu's home, so try to keep a free spot in your schedule." Tezuka-san laughed, a sound so strange coming from a face so like his son's. Then he caught a better look at Jirou's home, and his eyes widened. The house itself wasn't that large for a Hyotei student, but the grounds around it were impressive, even if mostly hidden by an imposing brick fence: a field of rich green grass stretching over the hill the main building rested on. "So this is one of your middle school friends? Kunimitsu, you should hang out with this guy more often."
"Thank you, Tou-san. I'll call you when I need to get home."
Tezuka-san blinked as if to clear his head. "Just remember, if it's after 6, you'll need to get your own ride home. Good to see you, Fuji-kun!"
Fuji made another bow as the car drove off, and he and Tezuka were left standing alone.
They didn't used to have a problem with silence -- used to be more comfortable with it than chatter. Now it stretched between them like a warfare trench, each of them trying to read the other across enemy lines.
"It's been a while," Fuji began for lack of anything else to say.
Tezuka nodded, looking at the neatly wrapped box under Fuji's arm. "I thought you said he asked for no gifts."
"Mn, but I didn't give him anything on his actual birthday, so I thought he'd make an exception. It's nothing big, but you can sign the card if you like?"
Tezuka raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't explode?"
"Ne, Tezuka. Still suspicious of me?"
"Always."
Fuji laughed. He was still easing into the conversation, but at least they were both on speaking terms. "It's a moon cactus: pretty, inexpensive, and not likely to be already owned."
With a nod, Tezuka took the card. Fuji managed to materialize a pen from inside his tennis bag, which he'd leaned against the wall to Jirou's house. Tezuka didn't question its presence, but signed as Fuji refused his offer to pay for half of the gift.
"You know some people actually want to go inside the gates," huffed a voice from behind them.
Fuji glared automatically at the intruder, who seemed completely unaffected. His doubles partner, on the other hand, hastily attempted to cover the remark with politeness.
"Tezuka-san! Fuji-san! How good to see you again," Ohtori chirped. "We were just heading inside." Then, a little more strained, "Let's go, Shishido-san." The two hurried past, Shishido mumbling that i he /i wasn't the one blocking the entrance.
"Shall we?" Fuji said once the muttering faded into the noise of the party.
Tezuka nodded, and the two walked inside. Fuji wanted to lean on Tezuka's arm, or at least close the half meter of space between them, but he couldn't quite bring himself to. Not until they had more of a chance to discuss how they stood with each other after such a lengthy separation. In the meantime, he could use the distractions at the party to assess Tezuka, or at least look for a sign to Fuji's status.
… assuming, of course, that Fuji wasn't distracted by the festival that greeted them inside the hall.
Fuji suspected this wouldn't be a simple gathering of friends, however the rows of booths and games, Ferris wheel, roller coaster, and a live elephant were pushing the limits of even his imagination. Not to mention the series of hills featuring six sakura trees… in full bloom… in July. Multi-colored carp flew from various flagpoles about the festival. For all intents and purposes, it was Children's Day.
"Well," Fuji managed, when he remembered he couldn't count on Tezuka to comment on the situation, "This looks exciting."
Tezuka looked down at Fuji, his raised eyebrow capturing his sentiments on the situation completely. He might have elaborated had not the noise of the carnival been drowned out momentarily by a shriek of, "You give that back right now before I--" Jirou skidded to a halt, clearly not used to wearing the geta on his feet. Losing interest in the giggling trio of children scrambling over each other to escape his wrath, the volley specialist's face immediately broke into a bright grin as he called, "Fuji-kun! You came!" He dashed towards them, a blur tripping over his sandals and the long fabric of his orange yukata, seizing a hug before Fuji had quite adjusted to the situation.
"Happy birthday, Jirou," Fuji said lightly as he worked his way out from the embrace and nodding at the disappearing children. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself."
Jirou glared in the direction the children had run. "Them? They're my cousins. There's like, eleven of them running around and they're all brats, so watch your stuff. My mom made me invite them. But never mind! You've got to come see my trees! We're going to have cake under them after everyone's done with the games, and then I got a dance floor and Hiyoshi's brother's roommate is in this really great band so they're gonna play and --oh did you see my elephant! Her name's Fiona, and I think she really likes Atobe but he's not sure, so--"
"It sounds exciting," Fuji interrupted as politely as he could manage, then set about distracting Jirou by shoving his gift under the boy's nose. "Is there a good place I could put this?"
Jirou frowned, "Mou, Fuji-kun. I told you not to bring presents. Everyone already gave me presents on my real birthday."
"Well I didn't send you anything," Fuji reasoned, "So really this is just extraordinarily late." He offered the gift again.
Jirou weighed his options, but curiosity won out over decorum, and he took the box as quickly as he could without actually snatching. "I guess that's okay then. Can I open it?"
After Fuji's nod of consent, Hyotei breeding held out long enough for Jirou to read the card and give a polite thanks to them both before tearing into the packaging, nailing Tezuka in the head with the pink ribbon. Texuka glared at Fuji's giggle while trying to untangle it as Jirou exclaimed, "Sugei!"
Moon cacti were one of Fuji's favorite species. He'd gotten Jirou a young Yellow Moon plant, the brilliant bulb the species was famous for about the same color as Jirou's hair. "Be careful taking it out of the box," Fuji advised. "I didn't name her yet, but it's important to give her one so she develops a personality." Jirou nodded, still a little awestruck by the color.
Eventually, he recovered enough to notice the tiny card stuck just out of reach of the cactus's spines. He took it out, asking, "What's this?"
"Read it," Fuji instructed, smiling.
"The bearer of this card is entitled to one tennis match at the time of the bearer's…Really?!"
Fuji nodded. "I brought my things just in--"
He never got to finish this sentence as dodging a cactus-wielding Jirou hug required all of his mental and physical agility. Missing his target, Jirou settled for bouncing in circles around the two Seigaku. "Sugei!" Jirou shrieked. "We can play before cake! This is the best present ever! Thank--"he stopped mid-bounce, an act that caused him to stumble on his feet. "I gotta go find a doubles partner! I can probably get Gakuto to play. I'll be back!" And Jirou tore away in a flash of energy before Fuji could begin to correct him.
Mouth still open in shock, he turned to Tezuka. "I didn't say…. I mean, Jirou assumed… I'll go tell him that…"
"It's fine, Fuji. I don't mind playing."
"But…" Fuji trailed off, not quite willing to mention Tezuka's arm since Tezuka hadn't mentioned it which meant either it wasn't worth talking about or it was too terrible to speak of.
"I said it's fine," Tezuka answered without actually addressing Fuji's concern. "Light exercise isn't a problem. You weren't intending on letting him win, were you?"
Fuji still wasn't quite sure what was considered 'light exercise.' "Of course not, but--"
"Then it's fine. Let's find someplace safe until the match."
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Jirou stopped his bouncing as soon as he was out of Fuji's sight. He wasn't sure entirely what their problem was, but he could hazard a few guesses. One thing was sure: they weren't about to ruin his party.
"Jirou, get this disgusting beast off of ore-sama!"
Jirou turned, expecting to see his rented elephant molesting Atobe again. Instead, he saw his seven year old cousin, Sachiko, her arms around the captain's neck, giggling in glee. The elephant, meanwhile, watched placidly from behind a short fence.
Ignoring her, Jirou announced, "Tezuka and Fuji are here."
"And do they possess a special skill in the detaching of filth-ridden children?"
"I don't think so."
"Then ore-sama does not care. Now remove it."
In Jirou's experience, removing one of his cousins without a relevant bribe or threat was not what one called an easy task. However, if he could get hold of some chocolate, he could probably…
At that point, Fiona decided she'd had enough of the child as well, reaching her trunk over the fence and latching around Sachiko's leg. The second grader screamed, pulling out of the pachyderm's grip and away from Hyotei's former captain.
Atobe turned to stare at the elephant, blinking. Apparently unsure of the etiquette in such a situation, he settled for saying, "You have ore-sama's thanks."
Was it Jirou's imagination, or did the elephant just giggle? He must have had too much sugar today. Couldn't afford to be hallucinating when important party business was about. "Tezuka and Fuji are here," he repeated.
"So you mentioned."
"They're being weird."
"They're Seigaku, Jirou. They can't help it."
"It's my birthday."
"It's your birthday party." Fiona's trunk wove its way toward Atobe again, and this time the buchou absently stroked it.
"So you should help me so they don't mess it up. And besides, it'll be fun, and you can ask Tezuka about his arm and the present you got me for my real birthday was no fun anyway."
Atobe looked ruffled. "That date planner was state of the art technology. It cost probably twice as much as your elephant friend here."
Jirou wrinkled his nose. "It was boring and I couldn't figure out how to turn the alarm off. It kept waking me up." Atobe rolled his eyes as Jirou blatantly ignored the point. "So you'll help me?"
A dramatic sigh… that always meant Jirou'd won. "If ore-sama must."
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For a few minutes, Tezuka and Fuji just walked awkwardly next to each other, commenting on the various novelties Jirou brought in, making occasional small talk about school activities, tennis, anything but the subject really on Fuji's mind. He suggested they try some of the games, if only to give them something to focus on besides each other. Tezuka chose a ring toss game, easily circling the three tennis racquet shaped targets.
The carnival attendant shoved a plushie in Tezuka's direction, which Tezuka frowned at as if trying to determine what it was supposed to be.
"It's a teddy bear," Fuji clarified.
"That is not a bear. Possibly a pig, but not a bear."
"It's a Pigbear. Endangered species."
Tezuka raised an eyebrow, and Fuji did his best to keep his smile completely normal and natural. Behind them, a small child of indeterminate gender tapped its foot impatiently for them to get out of the way. Tezuka shoved the Pigbear into its hands with a "Here."
The child's eyes opened wide, expression switching from annoyed to enthralled. Tezuka had that effect on a lot of people. The booth operator then handed the rings to Fuji, who prepared to repeat the stunt.
The first ring was a simple matter of checking the wind direction and applying an appropriate amount of counterforce. The second was slightly more difficult since he had to compensate for undoubtedly hitting the first target's ring which blocked part of the second. Still, not a difficult challenge for him. He set himself to aim the third, glanced to make sure Tezuka was watching…
… and noticed Tezuka calmly cleaning his glasses, suddenly revealing those striking hazel orbs to Fuji without any shield for the first time in so very long. It was enough to make him stagger slightly forward so that his last ring clipped the edge of the target before sailing lightly to the floor.
Fuji would eat his thorniest cactus if Tezuka hadn't done that on purpose.
And that warranted an experiment. They continued to the next booth, Jirou's cousin still clutching its Pigbear and following a respectful four feet behind Tezuka.
The next game in line involved hitting balloons with dull plastic darts, power becoming as much of a necessity as aim. Fuji let Tezuka go first, waiting as Tezuka lined up his first shot, popping a yellow balloon. Next a blue. He took aim for a red, and Fuji took his moment to stand on his toes enough to whisper directly into his old captain's ear, "Ne, Tezuka, you know you're being watched ?"
Tezuka's shot arced too high, the dart landing harmlessly in the sideboard. He turned to glare at Fuji, who gave his best innocent smile and gestured to the child behind them. He then took up his darts, quickly bursting three balloons before Tezuka could try to distract him.
The stuffed animal was probably supposed to be a moose, but Fuji couldn't be sure. He took it over to Tezuka's newest fan, kneeling down to its level.
"What's your name?"
"Yuki," the child answered in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Would you like a moose to go with your bear, Yuki-chan?"
The child nodded, accepting the neon green plushie and now looking between the two Seigaku with equal awe.
"Shall we?" Fuji continued as he returned to Tezuka's side.
Tezuka nodded, a flicker of competition flashing behind his glasses. He led the way to the next booth.
Within the next half hour, Yuki-chan acquired enough plushies that he/she was reduced to leaving Tezuka and Fuji momentarily to find a wagon. The scores stood tied, and there was only one game booth left at Jirou's festival.
"Step right up!" called a cheerful voice. "Grab a duck, and win some crap!"
Fuji and Tezuka stared at the pink-haired carnival attendant. After a moment, Fuji asked, "Marui-kun?"
Marui's eyes flared with anger, and he hissed, "Don't say that so loud. You'll give me away." Adjusting his straw-brimmed hat, he continued, "Crazy Hyotei kid sent these people to drag me out here. Took me half an hour to get away from him, and this is the only game he doesn't go to."
"You could leave." Tezuka advised.
"With his security? Not until I can slip out in the crowd. So you guys playing or not?"
"We'll play," Fuji said hurriedly, glancing at Tezuka and wondering how one distracted another person from choosing the proper rubber duck.
Marui analyzed the two, looking a little too knowing for Fuji's tastes. "So who's winning?"
"We aren't really keeping score," Fuji breezed, smiling. However, he knew that they were exactly 12 games each at the moment, and Tezuka probably knew it too. The entire competition came down to the duck pond.
"I meant the other game you two have going."
Tezuka frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"
Marui looked at them with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "Nothing I guess. Just pick a duck before you blow my cover."
Fuji kept his eyes trained on Rikkai's self-proclaimed tensai for a moment, pondering his comment, but he had more important business to deal with right now. He glanced down at the trough through which swam a small flock of identical yellow ducks. They stared through him with chipped, empty eyes, a gaze that made Fuji more than a little uncomfortable. He'd take this one somehow. Tezuka couldn't interfere if he took off his glasses or leaned over Fuji or breathed too close to his neck… none of it would matter in a game based purely on luck.
Tezuka steeled himself, probably having the same train of thought. Both of their hands hovered over the pond, though their eyes were locked sideways with each other. As one, they reached down, each snatching one of the yellow beasts out of the dyed blue water, flipping them over to reveal…
… absolutely nothing.
"Ouch, two duds," Marui observed. "And the ducks aren't winners either. Too bad, try again next time."
Fuji and Tezuka both momentarily glared at the Rikkai boy, who seemed rather unphased considering they were only separated by a two foot, red and white striped canvas.
"Oy, Fuji-kun!" rang a cheerful voice from down the aisle. Marui's eyes changed instantly from relaxed and smug, to wide and fearful as he dove under the plastic pond for cover.
Jirou raced over, skidding to a stop in front of the booth. "I found a doubles partner!" he panted. "We're gonna play before cake, okay? And I got a hold of some extra tennis clothes so don't worry if--" Jirou stopped, looking at the booth. For a moment, he looked like a terrier catching a scent on the wind. He leaned over the booth. "Marui-kun! That's where you went! You said you were gonna come see my cake! You promised! Come on!" And with a strength Fuji made sure to memorize, Jirou hauled Rikkai's protesting tensai out from under the pond and took off towards the banquet tables without finishing his thought for Fuji.
"Let's do something else," Fuji suggested once the two volley specialists had disappeared.
Tezuka shrugged. "We could try the roller coaster."
Fuji made a face. "Actually, I'm not much for thrill rides." He considered the other rides, but they all ended in a flash of every shoujo manga his sister had ever recounted to him wherein the hero and heroine were trapped at the top of a Ferris wheel and forced to talk out their feelings. "I think I saw a takoyaki stand a few aisles back. Let's go grab some."
Tezuka nodded, and Fuji led the way, making sure to stay at least two steps ahead of Tezuka so the buchou couldn't see how forced his smile had become.
center /center
"Would you let go? I need that arm for tennis, you know?" Marui shouted as Jirou dragged him around the corner and behind a popcorn machine.
Jirou didn't let go of his arm, but he did peek his head around the machine to glance at the Seigaku losers. "You shouldn't tease them like that," he said levelly.
Marui raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"
"It'll mess them up again. They get distracted easy."
Marui poked his head over the side. "What do you care?"
"It's my party; people should be happy. Plus, I think it's fun."
Marui shook his head. The volley genius had always thought his own teammates vaguely resembled a tennis circus, but Hyotei made them look like pillars of sanity. He spared a cursory glance at Tezuka and Fuji, who kept ducking out of each other's way to not come into physical contact, or indeed even be caught looking at the other one. "They don't even know what they're doing, do they?"
"Not a clue."
"Guess everyone, can't be as tensai as me," Marui sighed, trying to extract his arm from Jirou's grip with a nonchalant stretch. It didn't work. "So are you going to stalk them all day?"
Jirou shook his head away. "I don't have time for that. I haven't gotten to ride the roller coaster yet!"
Marui started to protest as Jirou pulled him in the direction of the rides. "Look, I just ate like, half a ramen stand back there--" A desperate lie. Marui'd been too busy hiding to eat anything all day. "I don't think it's a great idea for me to…"
"It'll be fun! Come on!"
Marui steeled himself for whatever tortures Jirou would devise; it was the kid's birthday after all.
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Running into Atobe at Jirou's birthday party was inevitable.
Running into Atobe while the buchou was mounted on top of a live Asian elephant… that was unexpected.
"Tezuka," Atobe called from what seemed a rather awkward perch on the elephant's saddle. He attempted to look haughty and aloof, but Fuji didn't need to be a tensai to see how white Atobe's knuckles were holding the railings of the saddle-cage. A bored looking attendant gave Fuji a pleading look from just in front of the animal, his hand holding rather loosely to the harness. Fuji would have sympathized, but instead he moved a few feet further down the picnic table he and Tezuka had sat at for a snack. The memory of a dozen or so "When Animals Attack" videos flashed through his mind, and he was beginning to regret showing that marathon before Yuuta's grade school trip to the zoo.
As usual, Atobe didn't bother noting Fuji's presence at all. "Back so soon? Ready for the rematch yet?"
Tezuka didn't seem to process the question, instead stating, "You're on an elephant."
Atobe looked around grandly, as if Tezuka had just pointed out a new pair of shoes. "Fiona? A most aristocratic animal, don't you think? Royalty in India have been using them in processions for years."
If you defined "aristocratic" as "needing two freshmen to follow behind with a shovel and burlap sack at all times," Fuji thought the adjective was quite accurate.
"And your arm? Ore-sama assumes it is functional for today's match?"
"There should be no complications," Tezuka answered.
"Excellent." Fiona lurched a step towards Fuji's takoyaki, and Atobe made a panicked jump to steady himself. Once he was sure the attendant had the creature in control, he risked letting go long enough to run a hand back through his hair. "Ore-sama looks forward to it. Not a proper rematch, but that can wait till a proper tournament. Enjoy yourself until then."
He looked pointedly at the attendant, who was busy eyeing the takoyaki cart. A clearing of Atobe's throat, and the attendant rolled his eyes and led them away at a steady lurch, the freshmen scrambling behind them.
Fuji returned to looking at his half-eaten snack, growling a little at Atobe's usual ludicrous entrances and pompous…
… did he just say rematch?
"Jirou got Atobe to play doubles with him?!" Fuji nearly shouted, standing up and fully prepared to go find the volley specialist to explain the entire situation and reorganize a proper singles match without the influx of pig-headed Hyotei posers when Tezuka grabbed his wrist.
"Fuji," he ordered.
Fuji froze more from the unexpected contact than the strength of the hold. It was the first time Tezuka had touched him since he'd been back, and it caused a host of memories to flood back into Fuji's mind. Things between them hadn't always been this difficult, had they?
Tezuka seemed to be having a similar moment of paralysis, or he just realized Fuji wasn't in danger of leaving any more. Either way, he hurriedly removed his hand, and added. "It's fine. I can play."
"You said you could play 'light exercise,' not a rematch with Atobe."
"It's a friendly doubles match. I'll stop if there's any danger of straining anything."
He wouldn't. Fuji knew he wouldn't. He never had before, even in friendly matches. But he'd never taken Fuji's opinion of the matter into consideration either. "Atobe's not going to let this be a friendly match, and you know it."
"You're over-reacting, Fuji."
"I'm not." Fuji felt how strained his voice had become, but how could he explain this to Tezuka here? How could he make Tezuka feel what it was like to watch someone you cared about throw his life away over a game, again and again, while he had to sit powerless on the sides? And always that nagging suspicion that Tezuka was doing this as some sort of lesson hung over Fuji's head.
Of course, this time he wouldn't be powerless… not in a doubles match…
Fuji lowered himself back onto the bench, willing his voice to be calmer as his strategy soothed him. "I'm not," he said again. "I just don't want Atobe to spoil Jirou's gift, is all. But we should be able to set the pace of the game, ne?"
Tezuka raised an eyebrow at Fuji's sudden concession, obviously trying to determine Fuji's agenda. But he agreed with a nod.
"Let's go see about getting you some tennis clothes then." Fuji stood and started down the path, not waiting to see if Tezuka was following.
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Standing at the baseline, Fuji had never expected to see Tezuka's form at the net. Tezuka and doubles matched about as well as most of Atobe's outfits. He'd never played proper doubles with anyone before that Fuji knew of, and he'd never played at all on the same side of the court as Fuji. Still, Tezuka knew the rules, and he'd most likely abide by them for a "friendly" match.
At least Fuji hoped he would, because the tensai had no intention of doing so.
Jirou bounced excitedly from the opposite side. "Let's go, Fuji-kun! Do the cool serve! Do the cool serve!"
If he played his serves right, Tezuka wouldn't have to so much as swing the racquet. Fuji lifted the ball, spinning it, and sending it disappearing in Jirou's direction. Atobe didn't make a play for it, standing somewhat bored to the side and waving to the fans who had appeared from nowhere to cheer for the event.
"Sugeeeeeeeei!" Jirou cried. "Okay, do it again! I think I can return it this time!" Jirou bounced towards the center of the court.
Fuji spared a glance to Tezuka, calculating how to best keep the returns flying deep when Atobe decided to start returning the serves. The former Hyotei captain certainly could return them when he decided Jirou's fun had gone on long enough. At most, Fuji had two free disappearing serves.
…or possibly less.
Atobe flew in from the baseline, sending a cross shot deep left. Tezuka started backing up for an easy return, but Fuji ducked behind him, shouting, "Got it!" before Tezuka could even raise the racquet. Fuji lobbed the ball back towards Jirou, and the two of them rallied while Atobe and Tezuka both looked on with raised eyebrows.
Fuji took the set easily.
Jirou's serves weren't his strongest play, and he purposely set up counters to test ways to beat them. Thus, the next set remained a singles match between the two of them, Tezuka only occasionally slipping in to save a Magic Volley. Atobe mostly observed, eyeing Fuji with increasing annoyance as Seigaku took the second set.
So far, so good. Fuji was a little surprised Jirou hadn't fallen asleep as they broke to get a drink of water, a task which was far more difficult than the game so far.
"Sugei, Fuji-kun! Do the bear one, again okay! Yours is way different from Oshitari's. I have to use counter-spin to keep the return in, right? I'm right, ne?"
Fuji ignored the series of protests coming from Oshitari in the referee chair, instead smiling politely as he worked his way around the volley specialist and nearly bumped into Atobe.
"Excuse me," Fuji said while delivering his third strongest laser glare over his smile.
"Not at all." Atobe's knowing smirk matched Fuji's for irritation. "Ore-sama has noticed you are somewhat preoccupied today."
Fuji turned his eyes up to their second strongest. "Really?"
"Mind you remember your opponents, Fuji-kun." Atobe strolled lazily to the other court, snatching Jirou by the collar as he did so.
"Fuji," Tezuka called from the baseline.
"Ah." Fuji shook off his annoyance as best he could. It was Tezuka's serve. His strategy would become obvious very soon, and he'd have to double his efforts at maintaining it.
Atobe was ready for the serve, performed at no where near Tezuka's real power. "Don't insult ore-sama,!" Atobe shouted, returning it with lightning speed to a hole in the defense Fuji 'd barely realized was there. Tezuka glared at the ball as it skidded off the court, his eyes flicking back to Atobe. There was a spark behind his glasses now, a spark Fuji'd seen too many times before for his own comfort.
Fuji knew he should be watching his opponents at this point in the game, but his head kept turning to subtly glance behind him. Sometimes, he tried predicting how Tezuka would react to Atobe's taunts. Sometimes, he just watched the way the too small tennis shirt (It was probably Atobe's… the fuscia color seemed to indicate as much) flared above Tezuka's hips. No. This wasn't a carnival game he could afford to get distracted during. This game had stakes.
Fuji refocused. Tezuka'd make a statement for Atobe, but Fuji wasn't sure he'd go so far as setting up a zero-shiki at this point. No, it looked like Tezuka would begin a rally. Fuji could handle that.
This time, he was ready for Atobe's return, cutting in front of Tezuka to hit a cross in Jirou's direction. At least he'd intended to hit a cross. In actuality, he just hit Tezuka's racquet as they both swung for the same goal.
"Ah, sorry, Tezuka."
Tezuka stared through him for a moment, and Fuji bore it with a smile. Tezuka might know Fuji had no intention of letting this be a doubles match, but he wouldn't say anything about it. So Fuji just turned back to the net.
Probably out of spite, Tezuka aced the next serve with a speed and power that couldn't possibly be good for his shoulder--a serve that didn't belong in a simple practice game. Fuji bit his lip as Jirou squealed with delight.
The rest of the set, and the few that followed it… did not go as well. In his efforts to stop Tezuka returning anything at more than half Atobe's power, Fuji ran into Tezuka's racquet three times, left an opening for his opponents due to being in the wrong section of the court seven times, and fouled into the net twice because Tezuka's borrowed shorts were riding up to indecent heights. Atobe regaled the audience with declarations of his own prowess mostly to keep them entertained, and Jirou started to doze off.
As they switched courts, Tezuka pulled Fuji aside.
"You're being unreasonable."
"I'm just playing my tennis."
"It's doubles, Fuji."
"I know that."
"Then play doubles."
"Then play with a degree of thought for your injury!"
"I told you that it's healed enough --"
Atobe's voice interrupted them. "If the two of you have finished preparing your concession speech, ore-sama would like to have this game finished before cake."
Argument or not, Tezuka and Fuji still managed to glare at Atobe as one. Tezuka turned back to Fuji. "Atobe's going to use his Tannhauser to keep things entertaining. Don't try to return it."
"We're down two games. I have to return it."
"Wait till he gets tired and the ball gets some bounce. Then let me."
Fuji narrowed his eyes and stormed back to the net, ignoring Tezuka's eye roll.
"Be awed by ore-sama's serve!" Atobe announced as Jirou's form slumped a few more centimeters downward. Atobe let out a growl, and the serve shot between Tezuka and Fuji, skidding across the ground. Tezuka didn't try for it, so Fuji didn't either. The second would be the same, if Atobe decided to show off again, which he almost certainly would. So there was no need for Fuji to--
Tezuka darted for the center court, sweeping low to catch even the tiniest amount of bounce. Fuji didn't even take a moment to think before darting in front of Tezuka, diving for the ball far too early and hitting an embarrassing scrape across the court that only resulted in the racquet being torn out of his hands.
"A bit early for you to try a stunt like that, Fuji-kun?" Atobe called, taking a drink from something disconcertingly pink that Kabaji brought him.
Fuji glared. He could return it if he stuck to the baseline, which would leave the two of them wide open for a Magic Volley, but Jirou seemed too bored to play one of his tricks. Of course that was a problem in itself, since Fuji's gift wasn't going over well at all. A counter then. The wind was picking up, and Hakugei had always been Jirou's favorite.
Tezuka's shadow fell across Fuji, his glare palpable against the back of Fuji's neck. Fuji ignored it and returned to the baseline.
"Eh?" Jirou perked up. "You're doing Australian formation?"
Fuji's neck snapped to look at Tezuka. "Take the net, Fuji."
"I need to be back here, Tezuka."
"No you don't. And you're not returning the serve. Take the net."
"No."
Atobe's serve barely cleared the net while they were busy arguing. Fuji managed to catch it with a dive, but Jirou was waiting, sending the ball back to Tezuka and starting a rally Fuji couldn't seem to get in the middle of. No matter where the ball went, or who returned it, the shots avoided Fuji. And Tezuka's movements got smaller and smaller…
Fuji had a childish urge to stamp his foot in frustration. The Zone didn't even have any effect in doubles! Atobe and Jirou just halved the distance between them, and neither seemed to be getting tired. Tezuka was doing it out of pure spite. It took Fuji several tries to risk ducking into the Zone's circumference, but the Hakugei flew true enough anyway… nearly decapitating Tezuka on the return.
"40-15," announced Oshitari. Neither the score nor Jirou's shriek of delight was enough to improve Fuji's mood though.
The rest of the game was a blur of colliding racquets and wide open blind spots as Fuji and Tezuka dashed around and in front of each other, completely ignoring the people on the other side of the net. Tezuka seemed determined to injure himself again, but Fuji was more determined to keep the game from slipping back into Tezuka's control. They lost the set, and the next. And the next.
"Game and match, Akutagawa/Atobe," Oshitari finally called. "6 games to 2. Can we leave yet?"
Atobe didn't seem to hear him, shaking his head as he approached the net, fuming. He glowered at Tezuka and Fuji, spitting out, "That was not even worth the dust on these shoes. Ore-sama seriously hopes this is not representative of this year's competition."
Fuji was trying to think of some sort of comeback when his hand was snatched across the net. Jirou pulled Fuji down for the customary handshake, while Atobe continued to lecture an irritated Tezuka a few feet down the court.
"Thank you for my birthday present," Jirou said politely, but he looked a little disappointed, which only made Fuji more annoyed. It had been such a good idea…
"Ah. I'm sorry it didn't turn out quite like--"
"Ne, Fuji-kun," Jirou interrupted in a voice so quiet Fuji had to bend down to hear him finish.
"Yes?"
"If one of you doesn't give in soon, you both keep losing." Fuji blinked, and Jirou darted away before he could even think of a response. "Cake! Cake!" Jirou chanted. "We have to have cake under my trees! Where'd Marui-kun go?" Jirou's array of cousins quickly picked up the pastry cheer, several of them latching onto Atobe as he tried to escape.
Tezuka walked back to Fuji's side as the audience filtered away from the court to the elaborate cake set up. "Did you want to get cake?" he asked.
"Not really."
Tezuka nodded, and the two of them quietly packed up the racquets, and started walking in no particular direction except away from the farce of a doubles match. Fuji pondered what Jirou'd said. Give in. Why should he give in? Tezuka was the one who regularly played through ridiculous injuries. Tezuka was the one who decided to study in Germany. Tezuka was the one who hadn't even bothered to call Fuji in nine months.
Not that Fuji'd called Tezuka either, but he shouldn't have to. He shouldn't need to admit defeat in a battle he hadn't started. And why did everything have to turn into some kind of ridiculous competition with Tezuka, anyway?
Fuji walked, his feet taking him to a small hill overlooking Jirou's cake celebration. The sakura trees bloomed strangely in the July sun, almost pure white petals, paler and with a lighter fragrance than Fuji was used to. An elegant array of blankets carpeted the grass in a multi-colored checkerboard, ready for the party-goers to relax on that evening. In a few minutes, this place would be swarming with Jirou's guests, but for now, it possessed an ethereal peace.
"I think," Fuji began slowly, "That you and I are singles players."
Tezuka smiled a little, which was comforting. It meant they could put the tennis match behind them. As for the other competition… Fuji wasn't sure how to bring that up, so he changed the subject. "I wonder how they got the trees to bloom?"
"Freezing." Tezuka answered.
Fuji cocked his head to the side, though Tezuka took a moment to realize he was being asked to elaborate.
"I saw it on a science program. You take a seasonally blooming plant, put a tent around it, and freeze it for a few days. The tree believes it's winter, shuts down, and prepares to flower again. Then, after the deep freeze, it starts a second spring."
Fuji contemplated this for a moment. "It seems like an awful lot of work."
"Starting over isn't easy."
Fuji decided they probably weren't discussing botany anymore. Why couldn't it be easy? Why did every part of their relationship immediately revert to being twelve years old and confused and squabbling over tennis matches that didn't count. Suddenly, Fuji was preoccupied with proving Tezuka wanted him more, needed him more, with showing that Fuji was i just fine /i alone if Tezuka was so intent on constantly disappearing.
Well it was going to stop. Jirou was wrong; it wasn't a matter of giving in, it was a matter of putting things back into place.
"It would be much simpler," he said, stopping to look up at the trees, away from Tezuka while he mustered his nerve, "to just... pick up where it left off." And before he could think about it any longer, Fuji spun around, intending to steal a kiss before Tezuka had time to react.
It would have worked perfectly if Tezuka were not trying the exact same thing, the combination of which meant they only ended up smashing noses into one another. Fuji shook his head, momentarily stunned while mentally smacking himself again for that degree of tensai grace. The humiliation subsided slightly when he realized what Tezuka had been trying to do, and that Tezuka was now laughing, which made Fuji start to laugh too, and suddenly, the rest of the day was just so damn I funny /I , that neither of them could stop.
"Of course," Fuji added, once the giggles subsided enough that he could make words. "We might be a little rusty at some things."
Tezuka regained as much of his composure as he could under the circumstances, "Regular practice is important."
The second try worked out much better, dissolving Fuji's world into the scent of tennis and Tezuka and a most unusual second spring. The cool edge to Tezuka's glasses slipping against Fuji's cheek, contrasting with the warmth of his lips, his breath, him… whatever happened at the end of the summer, everything was okay now, and Fuji was prepared to enjoy this time while they had it.
They pulled away when the first hint of voices started heading up the hill towards the trees. In no hurry, Tezuka and Fuji made their way back down to the party where it appeared Atobe's new pet was earning further favor by trying to snag Marui's cake. The Rikkai boy wasn't letting it go without a fight, though. Fuji smiled, glanced at Tezuka who looked away to prove he was not also glancing at Fuji. The look made Fuji's next statement a little too hard to resist.
"Of course, I did win."
Tezuka looked skeptical.
"You went to kiss me first," Fuji explained.
"That's not true." Tezuka used his buchou voice, which meant he doubted the power of the words themselves. "I distinctly saw you move first."
"I only moved because I saw you were going to kiss me."
"That is a blatant lie."
Politely arguing, the two of the continued over the sakura dusted grass, without the slightest amount of space between them.