Author Notes:

Inspired by episode 112 of the anime, the practice match with Hyoutei after Seigaku's special training. Fuji-Taka, not really a pairing, just slashy. (As the episode is muchly so, in my fangirl eyes. Oh well, shounen-ai hints make the fandom world go round...) There's also a bit of chapter 218 of the manga.

The theme may be a bit cliche, but hope you enjoy the fic. ^_^ I'd appreciate feedbacks on Taka's characterization, as I'm not too sure of that. Thanks!


This Hand I Hold

..

.

Fuji seemed to be rather obsessed with the welfare of my hand.

I caught him glancing at it after our practice match with Hyoutei. There was a calculating look in his eyes.

I tapped his shoulder, purposely using that hand. "It's fine, Fuji. Don't worry!"

He looked up, rather surprised. "Taka-san."

"You're worried about my hand, aren't you?"

He let out a little laugh. "I'm not subtle enough, it seems."

"Ah, it's because you've always asked the same thing..." I trailed off, just realizing what I had said.

"...Is that so," he replied, smiling slightly.

Ooishi would ask, Ryuuzaki-sensei would ask, sometimes Inui too, when I had used the power-intense Dash Hadoukyuu like this afternoon. But Fuji had been noticing whenever I'd strained my hand a bit more than usual -- which had been a lot throughout our special training -- and he had always asked, more often than the others.

"Let me see?"

"Ah, okay," I snapped out of my contemplation, and held out my hand.

He took it in his hand and examined it, without touching the wound. "Good thing Ooishi stopped you," he murmured, though he too had played a part in stopping the match. "You should treat it well when you get home, Taka-san."

"I will," I replied, more to be polite than really meaning it. It was just that I tended to forget these things once I was absorbed in my job in the sushi store or my own practice at home.

Fuji opened his eyes and narrowed them at me. "Taka-san," he chided.

At the sight of his serious expression, a sense of deja-vu washed through me. I was suddenly very aware of the feel of his hand on my skin, the sensation bringing back the memory of our doubles match against Fudoumine when I had taken Ishida's Hadoukyuu for him.

It was a long time ago... he couldn't still be feeling guilty over that incident, could he?

"Fujiko-chan," I said. "It really is fine. Healed. No permanent injury."

His eyes widened. It seemed I read him better than he gave me credit for.

We stared at each other in silence for some time. At length he closed his eyes and smiled his usual smile, tension disappearing from his features.

"I see." And he chuckled.

Whether he was referring to my hand's condition or my unexpected insight into his thoughts, I wondered. I supposed he didn't like people figuring him out.

"Come to think of it," I said, "you've always made me forfeit matches because of this hand."

He laughed. "So I did."

"If it is the real match..."

"I will respect your decision then."

That was unexpected. I had been prepared to persuade him.

He returned my rather bewildered look, before staring down at his hand, which was still holding mine. "Tezuka's arm..."

I blinked.

"...He was ready to sacrifice it to bring us here."

I began to see where he was going. "Yeah."

"Am I the only one who think that a person is more important than even tennis?"

"It's not just tennis, Fuji... this is for the team."

"Teammates are also friends. We have the right to be concerned."

I looked at him. It was rare to hear such words from his mouth, but I had known since long ago that he was actually a caring person, in a way totally opposite from Ooishi's. Fuji was extremely biased; he wasn't exactly affectionate towards people he cared for, but he protected them fiercely against the rest of the world.

Or should I say, us, not them.

I put my other hand on top of the hand holding mine. "Fujiko-chan, well-being is not only physical, you know?"

"What do you mean, Taka-san?"

"If you managed to stop Tezuka, or me, we might be spared from injury, but we would probably never stop regretting it."

He was silent.

"Some of us would rather live with a broken limb than the conscience that we have once cowered from a challenge when it really mattered."

His eyes were locked with mine, and I suddenly felt embarrassed for having talked so much so confidently. He was the genius, but he never made me feel the gap when he was with me.

"Ah, well... that was my opinion, anyway," I laughed awkwardly.

"It's a good opinion," he smiled. "Maybe I am the selfish one."

"How can it be selfish? You are thinking for us."

He let out a subtle sigh. "For wanting people I care about to do things I think will make them happy," he said, rather wistfully. "Never thinking of what you actually want."

I tapped his hand. "It's the sentiment we appreciate," I said, smiling at him as convincingly as I could.

He returned my smile. "Still, you probably wouldn't forgive me should I stop you from playing till the end, would you?"

"That wouldn't happen," I said. "I wouldn't have let you stop me."

He smiled again. "And you're not even holding the racket right now," he murmured.

I laughed.

"Nya? Why are you holding each other's hands?"

We turned. Eiji had just bounced into the room, immediately resting his elbows on Fuji's chair. Ooishi followed him in.

"Ah, Eiji," Fuji smiled at him. "You two have just played?"

"Yup!" Eiji replied cheerfully. "So, why are you holding hands again?"

Interestingly, it was Ooishi who blushed. "Eiji!"

"Ah," I hastily pulled my hand away. It was nothing, but the look on Ooishi's face just made me feel embarrassed for no apparent reason.

But Fuji's hold stayed.

I looked at him, puzzled. He just smiled, not at me, but at his cheerful classmate.

"Just taking care of our precious asset, Eiji," he said. "You, too, should make sure your doubles partner's hands are always in prime condition."

Now I blushed too, matching Ooishi's colour.

"Hoe?" Eiji looked confused, and turned to look at his partner. "Ooishi, your hands are all right, aren't they?"

"O-of course," Ooishi stuttered.

"Eh, but you're not playing doubles this time round, Fuji!"

"Eiji-senpai, we can hear you from outside, you know..."

I drew my hand quickly as the rest of the team swamped in. Fuji looked at me, the mischief disappearing from his expression, and I was suddenly worried that he was offended. But then he smiled.

"So what was happening?" Momo asked.

"Nyaaa... they were--"

"Ah, help me with the drinks, Eiji!" Ooishi hastily dragged him into the kitchen, surprising the first years who were inside.

"Hoee?"

"Fuji-senpai?" Momo turned to Fuji, confused.

"It was nothing," Fuji smiled secretively.

"Aah, you guys are stingy! Kawamura-senpai, tell me!"

"Momo-senpai, you are the nosy one."

"How rude, Echizen!"

"Hsss...."

"You got a problem there, mamushi?!"

"Oy, oy, guys..." I sweatdropped. We so needed Ooishi right now...

"Kawamura," Inui interjected. "Is your hand all right?"

"Ah, yes," I replied. All eyes were on me now, concerned, and though it embarrassed me, it seemed to be a good way to stop the kid-fight. "You guys don't have to worry!"

"Take good care of it," Inui said.

"Yeah," I absently rubbed my hand, the warmth of Fuji's hold still lingering. Our eyes met. He was still smiling.

"So will I," he said, not loudly, but enough to be heard by Inui, who looked at him in confusion.

"Fuji, is your hand also..." Inui started.

"Oh, no, don't worry." And that was all he would say.

Inui looked at me. I scratched my head.

"Hm," Inui turned away, mumbling to his notebook. My eyes followed him as he made his way through the resumed bantering of our second-year regulars.

Tap.

I turned to find Fuji's smiling face. His hand lightly rested on my hand for just a moment, then he pulled away.

"So will I," he repeated.

.

..