Title: Let Go
Author: Kikumaru_twin
Email: Kikumaru_twin@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: None of the characters used in this work of fiction belong to me.
Note: This story has SHOUNEN-AI in it. If you do not agree with or find this to your liking, please leave and refrain from comment.
Summary: What will happen when the rigid customs of society prevent the happiness of two lovers?
Pairings: Tezuka x Fuji ~~ Echizen x Momoshiro ~~ Inui x Kaidoh ~~ Eiji x Oishi
************************************
Prologue
Such a pretty house it was, surrounded by white palisade fence and a moderate amount of land. A metal gate covered the expanse of the entrance walk, which wound among freshly cut grass and blooming sakura blossoms to the stone steps of the porch. The shutters were of the darkest midnight green, set against the deep-red brick of the abode, and prim bushes lined the perimeter. One looking on would think of it as a sturdy and modest dwelling, in which resided a family well-off, and even wealthy.
But, as many know, wealth may not always bring happiness.
It was on this March morning that a lean figure stood outside the home. His light brown hair-- unruly, yet not-- framed his pale skin, and sharp blue eyes stared over the expanse of the neighborhood. Not many would find this queer, but it was very much so. For, rarely did the occasion come to pass where one could witness the lifting of his lids, and the unveiling of intense emotion, possessed only by those eyes. It must have been something of monumental importance to force his emotions in the open, and to increase his presence ten fold.
He was waiting for someone. Patiently. For he had waited too long for this trivial hour to seem the slightest bit intimidating. The soft silence, only interrupted by occasional sounds of nature, was soft and lulling. But even this brought back memories-- painful ones too. Watching the house, he remembered, that ever since that day, the looks given to him by his teammates-- how they would throw those sympathetic glances his way when they thought he wasn't looking, or the distinct strained atmosphere that existed whenever a conversation struck up. The furtive whispers behind his back, or the occasional pats of sympathy and that nod of understanding he always received from Oishi. These little things irritated him, although he knew they were only wishing him well. Fuji liked to get annoyed-- but only to a certain point. It did not take him long to snap, and what was once such a vibrant person, turned into a cold and emotionless shell.
There was no one who could shake him from his constant state of gloom. Day after day slipped by, and each day, another would give up on him, deeming his case hopeless. The last one to go was the adorable Eiji Kikumaru. He knew Fuji the best out of anyone and being his usual optimistic self, refused to give up on him for the longest while. Fuji remembered how he would plead with him-- There's a street tennis tournament just around the block... want to go, nyaa?-- They just opened up a new ice cream store and I they have a new brand of ice cream!-- Fuu! My favorite toothpaste company just came out with a new flavor!. But each time, he would decline, with the excuse that Oishi was more than enough company or that he had to study for the college exams. And as the days passed, weeks, months, he observed the cheery redhead's enthusiasm whither away into hopelessness, until even he abandoned him.
The last he could recall of his best friend was that rainy April night, where Fuji and Eiji had greeted the soaked Oishi at the door. Eiji had given him a goodbye hug, winked, and left with Oishi, an arm slung about his shoulder. As he watched the pair leave, his heart twinged with a mixture of hppiness and envy. Happy that his friend had found true love and could enjoy the pleasure of it-- envious that it was he, and not himself. There was no one to save him now.
Except maybe for him. But he was already out of reach, beyond reach, forever.
His attention was suddenly forced back to the present as the creak of the iron gate resonated through the early morning air. Those sharp eyes observed a tall figure travel down the walk and onto the paved driveway. He was dressed in a dark grey suit, a sharp tie, and all those other fancies that must be worn by a businessman. Fuji narrowed his eyes slightly at the appearance, for he had never liked seeing him in such formality. Yes, he was surprised. After rising to the national level, surpassing so many others with his tennis skill in both Junior and High school, Tezuka Kunimitsu, the Seigaku legend, had given it all up and studied for an MBA. But still, that decision was so Tezuka that he could not protest. Many thought he just wanted to settle down and not have to deal with the pressures of a sports life, but Fuji knew better.
Fuji stood patiently on the other side of the street. He knew it would not take long for the other to turn and notice his presence. And it would not take long for the moment he had put off for 3 years now to happen.
Tezuka entered the car, placing his briefcase on the seat beside him. Fuji could see all this happening even though the slightly tinted glass of the car-- even after the years, his eyesight remained just as acute. The seat belt was snapped into its place, the key started the ignition, and a glance was thrown toward the mirror to take in what was behind.
And that glance lengthened until it was stretched to what seemed like eternity.
He could see the sharp intake of breath, and widening of the pupils, the hand that was to grip the steering wheel frozen in shock. It gave him a slight twisted pleasure that he could surprise the stone-king so. But he just regarded him for those moments, through the rearview mirror, with that stare that could chill anyone. And they remained like that for the longest time.
Finally, Tezuka wrenched his gaze away from that mirror and got out of the car with slightly stiff and jerky movements, as if in a daze. Fuji continued to fix him with that same piercing stare, for frankly, he knew not what else to do. It was a slight handicap bestowed to him whenever Tezuka neared. The man on the driveway slowly turned around after exiting the car, to meet the glare of the other.
"Ohayou, Tezuka," he called cheerily, but with a cheer so eerie, from the other side of the street, "it's been a while." And he cocked his head slightly to the side, with those eyes closed into half moons, hands in his pockets, that famous stance everyone remembered him by, and waited for a response.
The other just stood there for a moment, as if still assessing the reality of the situation. After the longest time, he dipped his head into a slight and formal curt nod.
"Hai..."
"I suppose it has."
Tezuka first reached his hand back in the car to turn off the ignition-- he knew this would not be a minute meeting. He restraigtened himself in time to see Fuji crossing the street in a leisurely manner. There were no swarm of cars in this neighborhood at this time of day, nor any time for that matter.
The one by the car watched the other approaching with a mixture of fear and anticipation. Fuji could exert such an intimidating force subconciously, and it even put Tezuka on the edge. He had much reason to worry-- this would be their first meeting in four years.
At last, the two were only a meter apart. Tezuka's feeling of uneasiness grew by the second. Then suddenly the shorter one reached for his cheek with his right hand, in a small gesture of friendship. Or maybe something more. Tezuka flinched away before the hand made contact. Fuji gave a little frown, but nevertheless, pulled away and smiled knowingly.
"It could give the wrong impression," he tried to explain.
"Saa... still the same as always." He gave a nonchalant shrug, as if it were nothing of his concern. Even now, Tezuka could still sense radiant mischief, something he noticed had not managed to dwindle after the years.
For Tezuka, the atmosphere seemed to strain and waver. It became more brittle by the second, and taut from anticipation. He attempted to break the silence. "So, how has it been?"
Fuji smiled even more. He knew exactly what Tezuka was feeling, thinking, doing. It was so much fun to play with him.
"Nothing much. Just the usual."
"Ah, I see..."
In fact, he didn't see. He couldn't see why this was happening. Neither of them could. It shouldn't have turned out this way-- them conversing as mere acquaintances, only daring to in public. They both had foreseen a glamorous future, but nothing like this. But that time was already past. And they lived in a restrained world, with the tightest leash secured around themselves. There should never have been a strained tension between them. Neither the slight uneasiness, nor the unfamiliarity. It was all so wrong. But they waded through it anyway.
"How is Akira?" Fuji queried through the silence.
Tezuka stiffened. They were broaching a most unsecure topic.
"She... she is well."
"Saa... I see."
There was another silence as both contemplated what to put forth next. They each had one nagging item, but neither dared to say. Well, not quite.
"Have you any children?"
A shameful question. But it yearned to be asked, and once the curiosity and need to know latched onto Fuji, there was no turning back.
And, neither it seemed, for Tezuka.
He shifted uneasily slightly. He had thought for certain that the tennis tensai would know, but from his tone, and demeanor, he had not the slightest idea. Quirky things did occur, and this was certainly a most inconvenient one.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Hai."
And for a split second, Fuji's flawless facade fell, revealing the pure agony of anguish underneath. But only for a split second, and it took someone like Tezuka to notice. And indeed he did, for, it seemed an equal blow to him as it was to the other. But in the next blink of an eye, that invincible wall was up again, perhaps even stronger than last time. The worst attack was over.
Fuji nodded slightly. "Well then, congratulations." He managed to say, in an even, but small voice. "How old?"
"Only 14 months." He responded. "A boy." He added as an afterthought.
Even if it was an unwanted child, it was still his. He could not conceal that bit of warmth in his voice, that affection and caring that slipped past whenever he talked about the child. But there was also the hurt. An unsoothable pain which flowed underneath the rest.
As if in perfect timing, Fuji, the one facing the house, saw the curtains flicker slightly, and a feminine hand reach from behind to draw it aside. There revealed a young woman, about 22 years of age, holding an infant. She peeked curiously out, taking in the scene in one glance. There was no need for a longer one. In a brief instant, her eyes met with Fuji's, and it seemed, she sent him a message of understanding, before letting the curtians slide shut once more.
No, Akira was not a bad person. In fact, he quite admired her, everything about her. He knew she was well aware of her husband's situation, and his too. He could not have wished for a better person. But the fact still remained. He would have been happiest if she wasn't there to begin with. But if not her, then another.
Tezuka could tell from the tiny flicker of Fuji's eyes what had transpired between the two. And he knew how Akira had responded. She was a good and understanding woman. He did love her, but in an entirely different way. But that still did not alter the reality. He was pushed into it, for, if he had been given the choice, he certainly would not have chosen this path.
Fuji responded with another eerie smile and a small tilitng of his head, as if pleased. In truth, it did not matter much to him, those trivial details, for, it was only polite to undergo this small talk, being they were only friends. But, he concluded, they could sidestep that rule-- after all, they were more than friends.
That incessant smile of his could not always fool him.
"Tell me," he said a bit hoarsely, "why the sudden visit?"
There had been no warning or suggestion, and suddenly, after 4 years, they were meeting face to face. It had been a tremendous shock. In fact, he had not expected to ever see him again.
The tensai himself knew not what had propelled him suddenly to this place. After so many repeated attempts to make the journey, all carefully planned, all which completely failed, the final one to succeed was a mere spur of the moment whim, while preparing his daily glass of orange juice in the morning. There were probably other factors-- the burning curiosity which had not died, the need to confirm, and the wait to see the other again. There were so many ways to respond, but none seemed right.
"I am hopelesslty selfish."
He paused, and Tezuka waited patiently for him to continue. His statement was most intriguing.
"I just wanted to know if you were happy."
That said everything, but nothing. At least, he could grasp the situation clearly now. At this point, there would be nothing more to say. It was the most elating and depressing thought that ever occured to him.
"Well then," Tezuka said haltingly, "I suppose you have acquired all you came for?"
"Saa... indeed."
The edges of his eyes tipped down slightl into an expression one could almost call sad. But Fuji was never sad.
It was all he needed to know. Further talk was pointless. Even a goodbye. He resolved instead to forge ahead with this most unpleasant knowledge.
He left with grace. His arm swung slightly, which made his fingertips brush againt the back of the other's hand. The brief contact jotled both of them, stirring up the dormant fire, but neither showed it. That time was already past and well fading into a forgotten memory. But maybe, this new memory would sustain that remembrance the tiniest bit longer.
And so, he left theother standing in a state of deep nothingness, there on the heavy driveway by the car. He left him with the family he never wanted, the child he never wanted, the life he never wanted. and he took with him not so much his chance of happiness, but his dream of happiness, for the time when it had been a chance had long since expired.
He took with him something he had came with, and there was no use in trying to offer a return-- it had been willingly given with no regrets.
It was as if the tall man had aged 40 years since the last time he ntered the car, but he did so again, with the most pained movements. All the life, breath and anima was exhasuted-- there was not much more to look forward to.
He sat in the driver's seat for the second time that morning as a changed man.
And for the first time in his life, Tezuka was late to work.
Date completed:02-29-04
Author: Kikumaru_twin
Email: Kikumaru_twin@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: None of the characters used in this work of fiction belong to me.
Note: This story has SHOUNEN-AI in it. If you do not agree with or find this to your liking, please leave and refrain from comment.
Summary: What will happen when the rigid customs of society prevent the happiness of two lovers?
Pairings: Tezuka x Fuji ~~ Echizen x Momoshiro ~~ Inui x Kaidoh ~~ Eiji x Oishi
************************************
Prologue
Such a pretty house it was, surrounded by white palisade fence and a moderate amount of land. A metal gate covered the expanse of the entrance walk, which wound among freshly cut grass and blooming sakura blossoms to the stone steps of the porch. The shutters were of the darkest midnight green, set against the deep-red brick of the abode, and prim bushes lined the perimeter. One looking on would think of it as a sturdy and modest dwelling, in which resided a family well-off, and even wealthy.
But, as many know, wealth may not always bring happiness.
It was on this March morning that a lean figure stood outside the home. His light brown hair-- unruly, yet not-- framed his pale skin, and sharp blue eyes stared over the expanse of the neighborhood. Not many would find this queer, but it was very much so. For, rarely did the occasion come to pass where one could witness the lifting of his lids, and the unveiling of intense emotion, possessed only by those eyes. It must have been something of monumental importance to force his emotions in the open, and to increase his presence ten fold.
He was waiting for someone. Patiently. For he had waited too long for this trivial hour to seem the slightest bit intimidating. The soft silence, only interrupted by occasional sounds of nature, was soft and lulling. But even this brought back memories-- painful ones too. Watching the house, he remembered, that ever since that day, the looks given to him by his teammates-- how they would throw those sympathetic glances his way when they thought he wasn't looking, or the distinct strained atmosphere that existed whenever a conversation struck up. The furtive whispers behind his back, or the occasional pats of sympathy and that nod of understanding he always received from Oishi. These little things irritated him, although he knew they were only wishing him well. Fuji liked to get annoyed-- but only to a certain point. It did not take him long to snap, and what was once such a vibrant person, turned into a cold and emotionless shell.
There was no one who could shake him from his constant state of gloom. Day after day slipped by, and each day, another would give up on him, deeming his case hopeless. The last one to go was the adorable Eiji Kikumaru. He knew Fuji the best out of anyone and being his usual optimistic self, refused to give up on him for the longest while. Fuji remembered how he would plead with him-- There's a street tennis tournament just around the block... want to go, nyaa?-- They just opened up a new ice cream store and I they have a new brand of ice cream!-- Fuu! My favorite toothpaste company just came out with a new flavor!. But each time, he would decline, with the excuse that Oishi was more than enough company or that he had to study for the college exams. And as the days passed, weeks, months, he observed the cheery redhead's enthusiasm whither away into hopelessness, until even he abandoned him.
The last he could recall of his best friend was that rainy April night, where Fuji and Eiji had greeted the soaked Oishi at the door. Eiji had given him a goodbye hug, winked, and left with Oishi, an arm slung about his shoulder. As he watched the pair leave, his heart twinged with a mixture of hppiness and envy. Happy that his friend had found true love and could enjoy the pleasure of it-- envious that it was he, and not himself. There was no one to save him now.
Except maybe for him. But he was already out of reach, beyond reach, forever.
His attention was suddenly forced back to the present as the creak of the iron gate resonated through the early morning air. Those sharp eyes observed a tall figure travel down the walk and onto the paved driveway. He was dressed in a dark grey suit, a sharp tie, and all those other fancies that must be worn by a businessman. Fuji narrowed his eyes slightly at the appearance, for he had never liked seeing him in such formality. Yes, he was surprised. After rising to the national level, surpassing so many others with his tennis skill in both Junior and High school, Tezuka Kunimitsu, the Seigaku legend, had given it all up and studied for an MBA. But still, that decision was so Tezuka that he could not protest. Many thought he just wanted to settle down and not have to deal with the pressures of a sports life, but Fuji knew better.
Fuji stood patiently on the other side of the street. He knew it would not take long for the other to turn and notice his presence. And it would not take long for the moment he had put off for 3 years now to happen.
Tezuka entered the car, placing his briefcase on the seat beside him. Fuji could see all this happening even though the slightly tinted glass of the car-- even after the years, his eyesight remained just as acute. The seat belt was snapped into its place, the key started the ignition, and a glance was thrown toward the mirror to take in what was behind.
And that glance lengthened until it was stretched to what seemed like eternity.
He could see the sharp intake of breath, and widening of the pupils, the hand that was to grip the steering wheel frozen in shock. It gave him a slight twisted pleasure that he could surprise the stone-king so. But he just regarded him for those moments, through the rearview mirror, with that stare that could chill anyone. And they remained like that for the longest time.
Finally, Tezuka wrenched his gaze away from that mirror and got out of the car with slightly stiff and jerky movements, as if in a daze. Fuji continued to fix him with that same piercing stare, for frankly, he knew not what else to do. It was a slight handicap bestowed to him whenever Tezuka neared. The man on the driveway slowly turned around after exiting the car, to meet the glare of the other.
"Ohayou, Tezuka," he called cheerily, but with a cheer so eerie, from the other side of the street, "it's been a while." And he cocked his head slightly to the side, with those eyes closed into half moons, hands in his pockets, that famous stance everyone remembered him by, and waited for a response.
The other just stood there for a moment, as if still assessing the reality of the situation. After the longest time, he dipped his head into a slight and formal curt nod.
"Hai..."
"I suppose it has."
Tezuka first reached his hand back in the car to turn off the ignition-- he knew this would not be a minute meeting. He restraigtened himself in time to see Fuji crossing the street in a leisurely manner. There were no swarm of cars in this neighborhood at this time of day, nor any time for that matter.
The one by the car watched the other approaching with a mixture of fear and anticipation. Fuji could exert such an intimidating force subconciously, and it even put Tezuka on the edge. He had much reason to worry-- this would be their first meeting in four years.
At last, the two were only a meter apart. Tezuka's feeling of uneasiness grew by the second. Then suddenly the shorter one reached for his cheek with his right hand, in a small gesture of friendship. Or maybe something more. Tezuka flinched away before the hand made contact. Fuji gave a little frown, but nevertheless, pulled away and smiled knowingly.
"It could give the wrong impression," he tried to explain.
"Saa... still the same as always." He gave a nonchalant shrug, as if it were nothing of his concern. Even now, Tezuka could still sense radiant mischief, something he noticed had not managed to dwindle after the years.
For Tezuka, the atmosphere seemed to strain and waver. It became more brittle by the second, and taut from anticipation. He attempted to break the silence. "So, how has it been?"
Fuji smiled even more. He knew exactly what Tezuka was feeling, thinking, doing. It was so much fun to play with him.
"Nothing much. Just the usual."
"Ah, I see..."
In fact, he didn't see. He couldn't see why this was happening. Neither of them could. It shouldn't have turned out this way-- them conversing as mere acquaintances, only daring to in public. They both had foreseen a glamorous future, but nothing like this. But that time was already past. And they lived in a restrained world, with the tightest leash secured around themselves. There should never have been a strained tension between them. Neither the slight uneasiness, nor the unfamiliarity. It was all so wrong. But they waded through it anyway.
"How is Akira?" Fuji queried through the silence.
Tezuka stiffened. They were broaching a most unsecure topic.
"She... she is well."
"Saa... I see."
There was another silence as both contemplated what to put forth next. They each had one nagging item, but neither dared to say. Well, not quite.
"Have you any children?"
A shameful question. But it yearned to be asked, and once the curiosity and need to know latched onto Fuji, there was no turning back.
And, neither it seemed, for Tezuka.
He shifted uneasily slightly. He had thought for certain that the tennis tensai would know, but from his tone, and demeanor, he had not the slightest idea. Quirky things did occur, and this was certainly a most inconvenient one.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Hai."
And for a split second, Fuji's flawless facade fell, revealing the pure agony of anguish underneath. But only for a split second, and it took someone like Tezuka to notice. And indeed he did, for, it seemed an equal blow to him as it was to the other. But in the next blink of an eye, that invincible wall was up again, perhaps even stronger than last time. The worst attack was over.
Fuji nodded slightly. "Well then, congratulations." He managed to say, in an even, but small voice. "How old?"
"Only 14 months." He responded. "A boy." He added as an afterthought.
Even if it was an unwanted child, it was still his. He could not conceal that bit of warmth in his voice, that affection and caring that slipped past whenever he talked about the child. But there was also the hurt. An unsoothable pain which flowed underneath the rest.
As if in perfect timing, Fuji, the one facing the house, saw the curtains flicker slightly, and a feminine hand reach from behind to draw it aside. There revealed a young woman, about 22 years of age, holding an infant. She peeked curiously out, taking in the scene in one glance. There was no need for a longer one. In a brief instant, her eyes met with Fuji's, and it seemed, she sent him a message of understanding, before letting the curtians slide shut once more.
No, Akira was not a bad person. In fact, he quite admired her, everything about her. He knew she was well aware of her husband's situation, and his too. He could not have wished for a better person. But the fact still remained. He would have been happiest if she wasn't there to begin with. But if not her, then another.
Tezuka could tell from the tiny flicker of Fuji's eyes what had transpired between the two. And he knew how Akira had responded. She was a good and understanding woman. He did love her, but in an entirely different way. But that still did not alter the reality. He was pushed into it, for, if he had been given the choice, he certainly would not have chosen this path.
Fuji responded with another eerie smile and a small tilitng of his head, as if pleased. In truth, it did not matter much to him, those trivial details, for, it was only polite to undergo this small talk, being they were only friends. But, he concluded, they could sidestep that rule-- after all, they were more than friends.
That incessant smile of his could not always fool him.
"Tell me," he said a bit hoarsely, "why the sudden visit?"
There had been no warning or suggestion, and suddenly, after 4 years, they were meeting face to face. It had been a tremendous shock. In fact, he had not expected to ever see him again.
The tensai himself knew not what had propelled him suddenly to this place. After so many repeated attempts to make the journey, all carefully planned, all which completely failed, the final one to succeed was a mere spur of the moment whim, while preparing his daily glass of orange juice in the morning. There were probably other factors-- the burning curiosity which had not died, the need to confirm, and the wait to see the other again. There were so many ways to respond, but none seemed right.
"I am hopelesslty selfish."
He paused, and Tezuka waited patiently for him to continue. His statement was most intriguing.
"I just wanted to know if you were happy."
That said everything, but nothing. At least, he could grasp the situation clearly now. At this point, there would be nothing more to say. It was the most elating and depressing thought that ever occured to him.
"Well then," Tezuka said haltingly, "I suppose you have acquired all you came for?"
"Saa... indeed."
The edges of his eyes tipped down slightl into an expression one could almost call sad. But Fuji was never sad.
It was all he needed to know. Further talk was pointless. Even a goodbye. He resolved instead to forge ahead with this most unpleasant knowledge.
He left with grace. His arm swung slightly, which made his fingertips brush againt the back of the other's hand. The brief contact jotled both of them, stirring up the dormant fire, but neither showed it. That time was already past and well fading into a forgotten memory. But maybe, this new memory would sustain that remembrance the tiniest bit longer.
And so, he left theother standing in a state of deep nothingness, there on the heavy driveway by the car. He left him with the family he never wanted, the child he never wanted, the life he never wanted. and he took with him not so much his chance of happiness, but his dream of happiness, for the time when it had been a chance had long since expired.
He took with him something he had came with, and there was no use in trying to offer a return-- it had been willingly given with no regrets.
It was as if the tall man had aged 40 years since the last time he ntered the car, but he did so again, with the most pained movements. All the life, breath and anima was exhasuted-- there was not much more to look forward to.
He sat in the driver's seat for the second time that morning as a changed man.
And for the first time in his life, Tezuka was late to work.
Date completed:02-29-04
