The Rumour
Chapter 8: The Calm Before the Storm
Fuji sat alone in the café, his ice cream sundae melting in front of him. He was alone, so there was no one to comment on the fact that the tensai was not smiling.
Fuji Syusuke was not smiling.
Had any of the regulars been around, they would have run away screaming at the sight of Fuji not smiling – or at very least, backed away very carefully. But no one was there. That was the problem, reflected Fuji. Somehow, somewhere, things had not gone according to The Plan. Tezuka was supposed to be with him now. Not walking Oishi and Eiji home. The quiet captain was supposed to be seated here right now, directly across him, drinking green tea, talking to him. Or more probably, knowing Tezuka, drinking his green tea in silence and listening to Fuji talk.
Fuji didn't mind either way. Listening or talking, both were fine as long as Tezuka was there.
The empty seat across Fuji loomed in silent testament to Things Gone Wrong.
The tensai ran his mind over the day's events. Atobe's appearance wasn't a problem, Fuji had gotten rid of him quickly enough… Truth to tell, it wasn't even a challenge. So much for Atobe, Fuji thought scornfully. In fact, the only thing Atobe and the regulars' subsequent reactions had done was to bring about Phase Three of his plan even faster than expected. Tezuka asked for a private talk for him. On his own Fuji-mediated accord.
Of course, he was a little disappointed not to have a bigger reaction from Tezuka when he revealed the truth, but it was Tezuka after all. The only other person in the world who could still keep a straight face despite drinking Inui's Special Juice by accident. That was what made things so challenging.
But.
Fuji navigated his way across the prone, panting bodies of the tennis club players after his 100 laps, smiling. "Tezuka? You said you wanted to talk to me? Maybe we should go to the café after practice, it'll be more private, neh?"
"Ah, Fuji," Tezuka replied, expressionless. "Not today. I am going to walk Oishi back home later and there won't really be enough time. We can talk another day."
Fuji's smile froze for 0.035 of a second. "Ah, of course." Fuji stopped. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Ja!"
Fuji walked away without a second backward glance, holding on to his smile with all his might.
It wasn't fair. Not for the first time, Fuji wondered what it was about Tezuka that held the tensai in helpless orbit around him. Fuji had known about the power of his smile from a very young age. He could get away with the most outrageous things when smiling. No one could believe evil from the sweetly smiling tensai. He could say things, do things that no one else would get away with – as long as he did them with a smile. Punishment-bearing authorities melted under the full force of Fuji's smile. Fuji was able to manipulate most of the world around him with a soft upward quirk of his lips, and smile-crinkled eyes since he was three years old. Only one person was immune to The Smile.
He was in his first year of junior high when he first met Tezuka. Eiji had spoken non-stop of his tennis club, the amazing first-year who was able to beat all the third years, and the kid with the weird hairstyle that followed the boy-wonder around like a puppy. Curious, Fuji engineered a meeting with this amazing first year. He'd tried to make the quiet little boy with intelligent grey eyes blush. It didn't work. Fuji had given him up for some kind of emotionally autistic kid who wouldn't know a smile if it hit him in the face. Bored with the lack of success, he was about to leave. Then it happened.
He'd turned back to wave goodbye to Eiji when the small figure caught his eye. Tezuka, playing against the strongest third year student.
Fuji watched enthralled – not by the amazing tennis technique exhibited by the first year player, but by the emotion on his face. The passion. The fierce joy of playing. Exhilaration. Determination. Fuji had stayed on for the rest of the practice, just watching the play of emotions on Tezuka's face as he played match after match.
He wasn't emotionally deficit after all, Fuji realised. And the next day, he handed in his application to join the tennis club.
Fuji stirred the melted mess of his ice cream sundae. Since that day, he'd spend hours everyday at practice, watching Tezuka. Had become engrossed in tennis, almost against his will. Tezuka had that power, to infect people with his love for the game. He'd played against him, both seriously and for fun – and lost. He couldn't help it, every time he tried to play seriously against Tezuka, Tezuka would start getting that look on his face, which in turn shoots Fuji's concentration to pieces. And he'd never win Tezuka if he didn't play seriously. Fuji sighed. It's a lose-lose situation when it came to Tezuka. Never mind. I'll try again tomorrow. Besides, Fuji brightened. There's always Yuuta.
Tezuka deposited Oishi at his home, and left him to the tender mercies of his family and Eiji. He was halfway home, when he suddenly remembered that his grandfather and parents had gone to Hokkaido to attend some distant relative's wedding, and would not be back till next Monday. There's nothing to eat at home, thought Tezuka wearily. Hmm, isn't Kawamura's father's sushi shop around here somewhere? Maybe I can grab a quick dinner first before going back.
Within minutes, Tezuka found himself in front of Kawamura's family sushi shop. He entered the restaurant. The place was very crowded.
A waitress came up to Tezuka. "Table of one, sir? I'm afraid you may have to wait for a while."
"Ah…" Tezuka was deliberating whether or not he should just make do with a fast food meal instead when a sudden shout resounded across the shop.
"Ah!" Kawamura's father pointed at Tezuka with a huge fillet knife from behind the counter. "You're Kawamura's teacher from Seigaku! Thank you for taking care of my boy!! Wait!" The hearty man turned and shouted to the back of the shop, "Takashi, come down now! Your teacher's here!"
Tezuka winced slightly. "Kawamura-san, I'm not –"
"Tezuka!" Kawamura came out from behind the shop. "Otousan, this is my school buchou, not my sensei!"
"Eh?!" Kawamura's father did a short double-take. "Ah yes! You told me that before! Sorry! Ah! You came to visit Takashi, right? Ha Ha! Why don't you go on up to Kawamura's room? I'll send someone up with food for both of you!"
"No, I'm all right," Tezuka protested. Kawamura smiled shyly and repeated his father's invitation. "Yes, come on up to my room, Tezuka! You can have dinner with me! Otousan, Tezuka buchou likes eel soup!"
"No problem!!" The cheerful chef grinned, brandishing his knife.
Tezuka gave in. "Thank you very much for your invitation."
In a short while, Tezuka found himself sitting down in his team mate's room for the first time. He looked around. It was a little smaller than his own, and a little messier, but there was a certain warm inviting feel to it. You could relax in this room, so Tezuka did. Kawamura offered his buchou a glass of tea.
"Here, Tezuka."
"Thanks." Tezuka took a sip, and looked for somewhere to put the glass down. Suddenly, his gaze sharpened on a small box of bandages and some medication. "For your injury against Kabaji?" Tezuka asked, nodding at the pills.
Kawamura scratched his head sheepishly. "Y, yes," the third year player admitted. "The doctor said to take the pills if the pain got too much, but it's been okay most of the time."
"Nn. You should take care," Tezuka chastised gently. He looked at his team mate thoughtfully for a moment, then took out a tube of ointment from his bag and handed it to Kawamura. "Here, take this. It's an ointment for muscle and joint fatigue that I've been using. My physiotherapist in Kyushuu just sent me another box of the stuff. It should be quite effective, particularly considering the amount of work you put in."
Kawamura looked down at the tube, at a loss for words. The tube looked small within his large hands.
"Tezuka…" he started, staring at the unexpected gift. "You, you didn't have to get me anything. I mean, I, I already decided… I won't be playing tennis any more after junior high. Maybe you should give it to some other player who'll need it – like, like Momoshiro-kun," Kawamura finished bravely, not quite daring to meet Tezuka's eyes.
"Nn. So?" Tezuka asked. "Chefs suffer from muscle fatigue too. More than tennis players, probably, what with being on their feet behind the counter all day, and all that repetitive movement making sushi."
"Tezuka…"
Tezuka looked at Kawamura and gifted him with a rare smile. "No regrets in our final year of junior high, eh, Takashi?"
Kawamura fought back a prickling of tears behind his eyelids. Scenes from the past year flashed across his mind. His father telling him not to let Seigaku team down… The doubles match with Fuji against Fudoumine…The match against Hyotei's Kabaji… The team celebrating their win at the Tokyo District Preliminaries at his father's shop… The team training under Ryuzaki sensei… The team competing…The team running laps around the courts… The team… He opened his eyes and smiled back, a gentle, happy smile. "No," Kawamura agreed, his heart suddenly brimming with contentment. "Ab-so-lute-ly no regrets."
Kawamura's mother came in shortly after that, bearing a large trayful of steaming food. After an exchange of polite niceties where Kawamura's mother thanked Tezuka for taking care of her son in tennis, apologised for any trouble that Takashi — that big silly boy — got into, and where Tezuka informed Kawamura's mother that no, her son was no trouble at all, and was a credit to the school team and thanked the Kawamura family for inviting him and for the great dinner which smells wonderful, the buchou and the Burning power player settled down for dinner.
As promised, there was eel soup. And it was good.
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Ohaiyo! waves Thank you for all the reviews… Also, I've decided on the ending. big grins Just one more chapter to go… This is going to be fun!
Oh, just one more thing, I'm not crazy, I'm only mildly insane. Really! Just see my email handle!
