Wednesday

[The beautiful mundane]

Again, for peachy milktea for Christmas.

.

Fuji sips at his coffee, lingering over the morning newspaper which he always filches from Tezuka, even though he just reads the personals and comics while Tezuka reads it cover to cover, in the space of less than an hour. He enjoys the morning hours, the quiet before the day will rip them apart. It is this destruction and reformation and noise and peace that he clings to.

The mundane is a precious thing when Tezuka will inevitably be sent overseas for months and years and maybe decades but actually just weeks. It is only in his absence that these seconds turn to hours and these hours to days.

Fuji fills these days with workshops and activities and lessons of foreign languages. He studies French and German and mixes pronouns and verbs and tenses while watching his sister's children without even her asking. Fuji is quieter in these days that give him too much time for thinking. They aren't new lovers anymore, Fuji thinks he should certainly not be acting like some forlorn wife left for the first time. And yet, there is a lack when Tezuka is gone. The silence is oppressive and he seeks to fill it with whatever means possible.

Sometimes Fuji laughs at himself and mutters you're pining like some schoolgirl and how true it is. He misses discussing business that only interests him because it is connected to Tezuka, he misses showing Tezuka his snapshots first and almost conversations over morning coffee. He misses the light that reflects off of Tezuka's glasses and Tezuka's failure at conversations. Most of all, he misses Tezuka.

But the world falls into focus when Tezuka returns and that frantic attempt to fill the empty space is no longer necessary. For it has already been filled again.