Ah… Connections was just too sad for me. =/ It made me depressed. So let's try this again.
Revised: Oops.. I just realized I'd posted the unedited version everywhere, with a good-sized chunk cut off. Aiee…
Title: Disturbance
Part: 2/3 (gah! This turned out longer than I planned. Fuji stole my hand while I was sitting in the library writing, and refused to stop. =/)
Rating: PG – just to be safe. My writing brain says G, but I don't trust it anymore.
Pairing: TezuFuji
Word Count: 2038
Disclaimer: I'd pity the tenipuri boys with what I'd put them through if they were mine (in other words, they're not).
-~-~-~-
Cards. Cards and a daily glimpse in the hallway. That's all it ever was anymore. He quickly finished signing the happy, blue, "It's a Boy!" card – complete with little tennis racquets – and, stuffing it in his jacket pocket, walked off to his lab. He had just finished teaching a small group for a class he TA'ed for, and knew it was the time of day when his path would cross with Tezuka's. As a grad student pressed for time trying to finish his thesis, Fuji rarely saw daylight without glass windows or camera lens blocking it anymore – he was always at lab before dawn and leaving it after midnight. Nonetheless, he never missed passing through this hall at his time everyday – West 3, 11am – because it was where he got his daily dose of Tezuka. Today, it wouldn't be only a quick glance, though. Today, he would stop Tezuka, if only just to give him the card and wish him congratulations. Fuji hadn't been able to make any of the new baby celebrations the Tezuka's had invited him to, but it'd still be rude to not offer his best wishes.
He slowed his pace a little and checked his watch. 10:59:48. So he had thrown himself a bit off by speeding walking to make up for lost time in the little campus store. There, it was eleven now. But there was still no sign of Tezuka. It was strange for Mr. Perfect to be off schedule. Then again, his wife did just have a baby, and wasn't today the day the baby was supposed to come home? Fuji mentally kicked himself for being such a dunce – of course Tezuka had probably called in to take the day off – he was needed at home to bring his wife and child home, how could responsible Tezuka have not? With a sigh, Fuji went on to his lab. Looks like he would have to visit the Tezuka household after all. Maybe if he worked fast, and skipped lunch and dinner, he could take a slight break around 9pm to quickly drop off the card and see Tezuka for the day, then return to lab? Oishi probably would've scolded him for not taking care of himself, but Oishi wasn't here anymore. And neither was Eiji. They had managed to move on. Even though the ties of the Seigaku team was weakening, the Golden Pair still had each other, and thus could look towards the future and still see it large and bright in front of them, filled with the knowledge that no matter what difficulties pro tennis would throw at them, they'd still be together, forever inseparable.
Maybe he was bitter. That wouldn't do. Bitterness became hate, and even if he were to suffer in the present, watching the news alone on cold dark nights brightly showing his former best friend and his partner living out their dreams, collecting title after title, he shouldn't – no, he couldn't – hate the ever-cheerful Kikumaru Eiji, or begrudge him of his luck in life. Especially since he had a tendency to just push whomever he hated straight out of his mind, like that guy that always followed Yuuta around just to see him… Just because his own life had ended the night Tezuka had held him so very tightly for the last time, so tightly he had been sure he'd never forget the other's chest, arms, smell, feel... and yet had very much just let those memories fade out of existence… no, that didn't mean Eiji couldn't have his happiness next to him at all times.
Fuji Syuusuke was jealous. Fuji Syuusuke was angry. Fuji Syuusuke's eyes were closed and his mouth was curved and his voice gentle when Tezuka Kunimitsu opened the door at his polite knock. "Congratulations, Tezuka. I'm so happy for you – a son! How lucky."
No! He wasn't happy. A son wasn't lucky. A son meant the marriage had been a good one, the woman a good wife, and would be held in high esteem by the elder Tezuka who had insisted on the marriage that had killed him.
"Won't you come in? Fuji-san, isn't it?" A young woman spoke from where she had suddenly appeared, behind and slightly to the side of the beautiful, strong presence frozen in the doorway.
"I'm sorry, but I have to return to lab. I just wanted to drop this off," he said, handing her the card, careful not to brush the stiff as a board Tezuka in the process. Meanwhile, his mind screamed at him. iNo! That's not all I wanted! I wanted to see Tezuka! My Tezuka! I want to see him, smell him, feel him touch him bury myself in his arms and never leave him again!/i "Congratulations on your son."
Fuji Syuusuke, the tennis prodigy shrouded in a mysterious veil from speculations on his sudden disappearance from the competitive tennis circuit upon entering college, smiled, bade the two luck with their son again, turned, and walked away from the house he had once known so well, where he had often slept over, innocently spending the night in Tezuka's embrace after the rest of the house had entered the realm of the subconscious. That smile didn't fade into slumber that night. That smile stayed on his face as he sat by his window, the light of the full moon spilling into the otherwise unlit room, as hands still calloused from years of holding a racquet slowly turned the slightly yellowed pages of an aged photo album, fingers still soft as a rose petal wet with the morning dew tracing over forgotten familiar images, eternal memories of an ephemeral time. A stack of identical albums rested on either side of him, labeled from Seigaku I – VII. Another stack of ten albums, these from high school, awaited their perusal on the floor next to the sofa.
But Fuji's eyes saw none of that. Fuji's closed eyes saw the Hyoutei Gakuen match back in the prefectural tournament his senior year of junior high. He heard the cheers of "Hyoutei!" and "Atobe!" He felt his heart skip several beats as Tezuka gripped his shoulder. He realized, all over again, exactly how important Tezuka was to him. The next page showed Atobe raising Tezuka's unhurt arm, and one of the then wild Hyoutei team. One face caught his eyes. Could it be? Fuji peered closer. It sure as hell looked it.
Fuji was intrigued. He flipped to the front of the album, which held all the negatives of the pictures in that album. He located the interesting one. He ran to his walk-in closet, more commonly known as his darkroom.
An hour later, he removed the dried print from the pins holding it up, and took it out to his study. The picture, blown up almost four times from the original, left nothing to doubt. There was that sleeping Regular with the magic volley – Jirou or something? A name like that had been in the tennis section of the newspaper lately. And on the bench behind him, wearing a Hyoutei Tennis Club jacket, was a petite girl. Odd that a girl would be wearing the boy's club's jacket, but that didn't click in Fuji's mind. The girl's face did. Though several years younger, it was unmistakably the face of the woman in Tezuka's house that night, who had somehow known his name. He had thought it was strange for Tezuka's wife to remember his name, after only having met him for a few minutes at their wedding. But if she had been into tennis, and at Hyoutei, no less, well, that explained it.
It was annoying. Fuji was decidedly not happy. Not only had he not slept the night before, he hadn't been able to finish looking through his photo albums. Blowing up that picture had thrown off his time, and he had only made it to when they had been setting out for the National tournament. But his thesis needed to be done. And so Fuji dragged himself through another morning, eagerly awaiting 11am.
Tezuka wasn't there. Again. This wasn't good – Tezuka better not make a habit of skipping out on him. Fuji was too tired to remember that Tezuka had looked nearly destroyed one day when Fuji had been a little late, hidden behind a tall crowd of people, silently, secretly watching Tezuka's reaction. He forgot that their need to make sure the other was OK wasn't one-sided. No – Fuji had been just too tired of life.
Of course, that was why he hadn't expected Tezuka Ayana to open the door when he knocked, excuse/present in hand, prepared to tell his Tezuka that he had forgotten to bring the baby's present with him the previous day. Thus, he hadn't expected to be questioned on the young parents' whereabouts. Tezuka and his wife hadn't been seen since last night? Both of them were gone before the rest of the household had awakened to the baby's neglected cries?
iHe might never see Tezuka again?/i
Stunned, a still-smiling shell of a slight sadist (1) walked back to his apartment.
Unaware, same shell nearly tripped over a figure resting against his door.
Stupefied, said shell stared as said figure raised his head, perfectly mussed hair giving way to a tired, excited, sad, ecstatic, lost face, partly covered by practical wire-rimmed glasses. "Fuji."
"Te…Te…" Fuji stuttered uncharacteristically. Not sleeping was most definitely joining Aoi on Fuji's "Avoid At All Costs" list.
"Can we talk inside?"
Silent, Fuji nodded, reaching over to unlock the door as the cause of his distress stood up and moved out of the way. Once inside, Fuji regained some sense and bustled around getting his guest – how it hurt to think of Tezuka as merely a guest – a pair of slippers and set some water boiling for tea. The whistle of the steam from the kettle soothed him and returned some of his sense to him, but staring at Tezuka, who awkwardly flipped through some pages of the albums he hadn't put away yet, did not help.
In any case, he took a deep breath before carrying a tray of tea out for them, sitting down on the Western-style sofa next to the only one who could rattle him so, the special distance between them nothing compared to the distance of time that had so separated them. Had it really been nearly seven years since that day?
I"Fuji, I'm getting married."
Blue eyes flickered briefly. "Congratulations."
"We can't do this anymore."
"I understand."
"Do you?" Could you? "My grandfather. He's forcing me…" I can't be dishonorable.
He meant that unspoken comment in more ways than one, Fuji knew. They, two boys, were dishonorable. Disobeying his grandfather was dishonorable. Being a faithless husband was dishonorable. Everything about them was dishonorable.
"Tezuka? Hold me tonight?" Hold me tight so that I never forget what you feel like what you smell like how it is when I'm with you and everything will be OK because you're here and that's all that matters for now…/I
Those arms – so many nights had been spent dreaming of those arms around his shoulders, the other's presence filling and surround him, shielding him from life's disappointments with a cover of love.
But it was impossible to think that Tezuka could be here for him. No, it must be something else. He couldn't raise his hopes for something he knew would fall through like that. The return to reality would be harder and more painful the more he fantasized. Just like waking up every morning after dreaming of happier times when the other was still with him, still standing there, next to him, overseeing the games being played on the Seigaku tennis courts, walking to the train station together after school, spending nights together at away tournaments and training camps. "Tezuka? I dropped by your place earlier – I forgot your son's gift yesterday – they said you and your wife were missing –"
"She's not my wife."
"What?" This was most definitely unexpected. What did Tezuka mean by that? For the past six? seven? years, they weren't able to have any more connections than a mere glance in the hallway because of the marriage, the wife, right?
-~-~-~-
(1) good grief the alliteration! So NOT planned – I hate alliteration!
I'll have to stop here for today. My break is over – time to get to my own research project. ^.^ I love my advisor and all, but she really needs to reschedule our meetings. Otherwise, I'll spend a nice hour studying, then waste a good hour and a half every week in a library writing tenipuri that begs me to type it up and post it once I got to my room.
Hope you liked it! I know it wasn't as emotional as part 1, but my writing seems to reflect my mood, and part one was written in a fit of nostalgia, I think. This week, I'm just tired. Exhausted. Midterms suck. Next week should be.. well, we'll just wait and see, ne?
Comments, critiques, helpful criticism, etc. welcome - but please, only in reviews - I don't check my email for those. ^.^ Part three will hopefully be out by this time next week. =P Oh, and please visit my website!
http://www.yinguang.tk
Submit your stories (email: ladyoflight000@yahoo.com or link it in a comment at http://www.livejournal.com/users/shizukanahikari) , send me links to fitting stories so that I can ask the author, etc.etc.! I want it to be a site dedicated solely to the PoT breakup fandom – Drop me a line if you want to co-manage the site with me! ^.^;;; It'll never get updated otherwise…
Revised: Oops.. I just realized I'd posted the unedited version everywhere, with a good-sized chunk cut off. Aiee…
Title: Disturbance
Part: 2/3 (gah! This turned out longer than I planned. Fuji stole my hand while I was sitting in the library writing, and refused to stop. =/)
Rating: PG – just to be safe. My writing brain says G, but I don't trust it anymore.
Pairing: TezuFuji
Word Count: 2038
Disclaimer: I'd pity the tenipuri boys with what I'd put them through if they were mine (in other words, they're not).
-~-~-~-
Cards. Cards and a daily glimpse in the hallway. That's all it ever was anymore. He quickly finished signing the happy, blue, "It's a Boy!" card – complete with little tennis racquets – and, stuffing it in his jacket pocket, walked off to his lab. He had just finished teaching a small group for a class he TA'ed for, and knew it was the time of day when his path would cross with Tezuka's. As a grad student pressed for time trying to finish his thesis, Fuji rarely saw daylight without glass windows or camera lens blocking it anymore – he was always at lab before dawn and leaving it after midnight. Nonetheless, he never missed passing through this hall at his time everyday – West 3, 11am – because it was where he got his daily dose of Tezuka. Today, it wouldn't be only a quick glance, though. Today, he would stop Tezuka, if only just to give him the card and wish him congratulations. Fuji hadn't been able to make any of the new baby celebrations the Tezuka's had invited him to, but it'd still be rude to not offer his best wishes.
He slowed his pace a little and checked his watch. 10:59:48. So he had thrown himself a bit off by speeding walking to make up for lost time in the little campus store. There, it was eleven now. But there was still no sign of Tezuka. It was strange for Mr. Perfect to be off schedule. Then again, his wife did just have a baby, and wasn't today the day the baby was supposed to come home? Fuji mentally kicked himself for being such a dunce – of course Tezuka had probably called in to take the day off – he was needed at home to bring his wife and child home, how could responsible Tezuka have not? With a sigh, Fuji went on to his lab. Looks like he would have to visit the Tezuka household after all. Maybe if he worked fast, and skipped lunch and dinner, he could take a slight break around 9pm to quickly drop off the card and see Tezuka for the day, then return to lab? Oishi probably would've scolded him for not taking care of himself, but Oishi wasn't here anymore. And neither was Eiji. They had managed to move on. Even though the ties of the Seigaku team was weakening, the Golden Pair still had each other, and thus could look towards the future and still see it large and bright in front of them, filled with the knowledge that no matter what difficulties pro tennis would throw at them, they'd still be together, forever inseparable.
Maybe he was bitter. That wouldn't do. Bitterness became hate, and even if he were to suffer in the present, watching the news alone on cold dark nights brightly showing his former best friend and his partner living out their dreams, collecting title after title, he shouldn't – no, he couldn't – hate the ever-cheerful Kikumaru Eiji, or begrudge him of his luck in life. Especially since he had a tendency to just push whomever he hated straight out of his mind, like that guy that always followed Yuuta around just to see him… Just because his own life had ended the night Tezuka had held him so very tightly for the last time, so tightly he had been sure he'd never forget the other's chest, arms, smell, feel... and yet had very much just let those memories fade out of existence… no, that didn't mean Eiji couldn't have his happiness next to him at all times.
Fuji Syuusuke was jealous. Fuji Syuusuke was angry. Fuji Syuusuke's eyes were closed and his mouth was curved and his voice gentle when Tezuka Kunimitsu opened the door at his polite knock. "Congratulations, Tezuka. I'm so happy for you – a son! How lucky."
No! He wasn't happy. A son wasn't lucky. A son meant the marriage had been a good one, the woman a good wife, and would be held in high esteem by the elder Tezuka who had insisted on the marriage that had killed him.
"Won't you come in? Fuji-san, isn't it?" A young woman spoke from where she had suddenly appeared, behind and slightly to the side of the beautiful, strong presence frozen in the doorway.
"I'm sorry, but I have to return to lab. I just wanted to drop this off," he said, handing her the card, careful not to brush the stiff as a board Tezuka in the process. Meanwhile, his mind screamed at him. iNo! That's not all I wanted! I wanted to see Tezuka! My Tezuka! I want to see him, smell him, feel him touch him bury myself in his arms and never leave him again!/i "Congratulations on your son."
Fuji Syuusuke, the tennis prodigy shrouded in a mysterious veil from speculations on his sudden disappearance from the competitive tennis circuit upon entering college, smiled, bade the two luck with their son again, turned, and walked away from the house he had once known so well, where he had often slept over, innocently spending the night in Tezuka's embrace after the rest of the house had entered the realm of the subconscious. That smile didn't fade into slumber that night. That smile stayed on his face as he sat by his window, the light of the full moon spilling into the otherwise unlit room, as hands still calloused from years of holding a racquet slowly turned the slightly yellowed pages of an aged photo album, fingers still soft as a rose petal wet with the morning dew tracing over forgotten familiar images, eternal memories of an ephemeral time. A stack of identical albums rested on either side of him, labeled from Seigaku I – VII. Another stack of ten albums, these from high school, awaited their perusal on the floor next to the sofa.
But Fuji's eyes saw none of that. Fuji's closed eyes saw the Hyoutei Gakuen match back in the prefectural tournament his senior year of junior high. He heard the cheers of "Hyoutei!" and "Atobe!" He felt his heart skip several beats as Tezuka gripped his shoulder. He realized, all over again, exactly how important Tezuka was to him. The next page showed Atobe raising Tezuka's unhurt arm, and one of the then wild Hyoutei team. One face caught his eyes. Could it be? Fuji peered closer. It sure as hell looked it.
Fuji was intrigued. He flipped to the front of the album, which held all the negatives of the pictures in that album. He located the interesting one. He ran to his walk-in closet, more commonly known as his darkroom.
An hour later, he removed the dried print from the pins holding it up, and took it out to his study. The picture, blown up almost four times from the original, left nothing to doubt. There was that sleeping Regular with the magic volley – Jirou or something? A name like that had been in the tennis section of the newspaper lately. And on the bench behind him, wearing a Hyoutei Tennis Club jacket, was a petite girl. Odd that a girl would be wearing the boy's club's jacket, but that didn't click in Fuji's mind. The girl's face did. Though several years younger, it was unmistakably the face of the woman in Tezuka's house that night, who had somehow known his name. He had thought it was strange for Tezuka's wife to remember his name, after only having met him for a few minutes at their wedding. But if she had been into tennis, and at Hyoutei, no less, well, that explained it.
It was annoying. Fuji was decidedly not happy. Not only had he not slept the night before, he hadn't been able to finish looking through his photo albums. Blowing up that picture had thrown off his time, and he had only made it to when they had been setting out for the National tournament. But his thesis needed to be done. And so Fuji dragged himself through another morning, eagerly awaiting 11am.
Tezuka wasn't there. Again. This wasn't good – Tezuka better not make a habit of skipping out on him. Fuji was too tired to remember that Tezuka had looked nearly destroyed one day when Fuji had been a little late, hidden behind a tall crowd of people, silently, secretly watching Tezuka's reaction. He forgot that their need to make sure the other was OK wasn't one-sided. No – Fuji had been just too tired of life.
Of course, that was why he hadn't expected Tezuka Ayana to open the door when he knocked, excuse/present in hand, prepared to tell his Tezuka that he had forgotten to bring the baby's present with him the previous day. Thus, he hadn't expected to be questioned on the young parents' whereabouts. Tezuka and his wife hadn't been seen since last night? Both of them were gone before the rest of the household had awakened to the baby's neglected cries?
iHe might never see Tezuka again?/i
Stunned, a still-smiling shell of a slight sadist (1) walked back to his apartment.
Unaware, same shell nearly tripped over a figure resting against his door.
Stupefied, said shell stared as said figure raised his head, perfectly mussed hair giving way to a tired, excited, sad, ecstatic, lost face, partly covered by practical wire-rimmed glasses. "Fuji."
"Te…Te…" Fuji stuttered uncharacteristically. Not sleeping was most definitely joining Aoi on Fuji's "Avoid At All Costs" list.
"Can we talk inside?"
Silent, Fuji nodded, reaching over to unlock the door as the cause of his distress stood up and moved out of the way. Once inside, Fuji regained some sense and bustled around getting his guest – how it hurt to think of Tezuka as merely a guest – a pair of slippers and set some water boiling for tea. The whistle of the steam from the kettle soothed him and returned some of his sense to him, but staring at Tezuka, who awkwardly flipped through some pages of the albums he hadn't put away yet, did not help.
In any case, he took a deep breath before carrying a tray of tea out for them, sitting down on the Western-style sofa next to the only one who could rattle him so, the special distance between them nothing compared to the distance of time that had so separated them. Had it really been nearly seven years since that day?
I"Fuji, I'm getting married."
Blue eyes flickered briefly. "Congratulations."
"We can't do this anymore."
"I understand."
"Do you?" Could you? "My grandfather. He's forcing me…" I can't be dishonorable.
He meant that unspoken comment in more ways than one, Fuji knew. They, two boys, were dishonorable. Disobeying his grandfather was dishonorable. Being a faithless husband was dishonorable. Everything about them was dishonorable.
"Tezuka? Hold me tonight?" Hold me tight so that I never forget what you feel like what you smell like how it is when I'm with you and everything will be OK because you're here and that's all that matters for now…/I
Those arms – so many nights had been spent dreaming of those arms around his shoulders, the other's presence filling and surround him, shielding him from life's disappointments with a cover of love.
But it was impossible to think that Tezuka could be here for him. No, it must be something else. He couldn't raise his hopes for something he knew would fall through like that. The return to reality would be harder and more painful the more he fantasized. Just like waking up every morning after dreaming of happier times when the other was still with him, still standing there, next to him, overseeing the games being played on the Seigaku tennis courts, walking to the train station together after school, spending nights together at away tournaments and training camps. "Tezuka? I dropped by your place earlier – I forgot your son's gift yesterday – they said you and your wife were missing –"
"She's not my wife."
"What?" This was most definitely unexpected. What did Tezuka mean by that? For the past six? seven? years, they weren't able to have any more connections than a mere glance in the hallway because of the marriage, the wife, right?
-~-~-~-
(1) good grief the alliteration! So NOT planned – I hate alliteration!
I'll have to stop here for today. My break is over – time to get to my own research project. ^.^ I love my advisor and all, but she really needs to reschedule our meetings. Otherwise, I'll spend a nice hour studying, then waste a good hour and a half every week in a library writing tenipuri that begs me to type it up and post it once I got to my room.
Hope you liked it! I know it wasn't as emotional as part 1, but my writing seems to reflect my mood, and part one was written in a fit of nostalgia, I think. This week, I'm just tired. Exhausted. Midterms suck. Next week should be.. well, we'll just wait and see, ne?
Comments, critiques, helpful criticism, etc. welcome - but please, only in reviews - I don't check my email for those. ^.^ Part three will hopefully be out by this time next week. =P Oh, and please visit my website!
http://www.yinguang.tk
Submit your stories (email: ladyoflight000@yahoo.com or link it in a comment at http://www.livejournal.com/users/shizukanahikari) , send me links to fitting stories so that I can ask the author, etc.etc.! I want it to be a site dedicated solely to the PoT breakup fandom – Drop me a line if you want to co-manage the site with me! ^.^;;; It'll never get updated otherwise…