Disclaimer: See previous chapters…
Notes: Let's see…this is probably the longest chapter I've ever written, and apologies for the last chapter, I know it was kind of bland, but it was needed to clear the loose ends a bit, so hopefully this chapter will be better emotion-wise.
And of course, thanks to all my reviewers, you know what? This is probably the first time I've ever finished a composition, ever. Well, maybe except for school, but that's different…blah, I'm finished rambling now, enjoy the chapter!
-x-
"Kunimitsu."
The other looked up, hardly surprised, "Syusuke." He said flatly in greeting. "Nice of you to show, did you have Saeki's permission to come?"
It was almost frightening to see the other lying there, looking as if he was half dying, even though he was not, Fuji swallowed painfully, "Look, I…it…I wish you wouldn't be so sarcastic, it doesn't become you." He glanced at the door, looking for moral support and finding none.
Tension radiated between them like electricity that fairly cracked in the air. After a decent interval of staring, Tezuka raised himself up on his good arm, "That has no bearing on the current discussion, Fuji."
Tezuka hadn't called him that, it was always 'Syusuke', he'd always insisted on 'Syusuke', and not 'Fuji', because 'Fuji' sounded too ordinary and much too formal. The usage of the name made him feel suddenly cold and distant from one who was always so close. "I thought I told you not to call me that."
"This is hardly a private situation." Tezuka countered quietly, "Sit down." He gestured to the hard-backed chair next to the bed.
Fuji obeyed. "But Kunimitsu, at least…at least let me ex—"
"Explain." Tezuka finished. "…How many times have you explained this? Answer that question, then you may explain." Apparently, supporting himself on one elbow proved too much of a strain so the bespectacled boy fell back amongst the pillows once more, "I've tried to hate you. But I never could. You and I…are we a blessing, or a curse?"
"We are neither." Fuji replied with unexpected surety, "We just are. In between, one might say. Why are you always looking for answers?"
"Because I have the unfortunate birth defect known as logic." Tezuka replied with something between laughter and disdain, if he was trying to be funny, Fuji failed to see the humorous side of it. "Something, that you don't have, and I envy you for it."
"Kunimitsu, it's scary when you talk like this." He tried to shift the conversation back into more stable ground, "Besides, everybody in the tennis club envy you and want to be like you, is that a bad thing?"
"And what do they know?" Tezuka said, "And what do you know?"
"Everything about you tells me."
"That is why." Tezuka paused, obviously trying to search for the appropriate wording, "We will…never…work, we know too much. When you are happy, I know, when you suffer, I suffer. It will…be the end of us. Fuji…Syusuke, let's not do this anymore, let's be free."
He had not expected this, of all things, Fuji had originally expected Tezuka to be mad beyond belief and break up with him in the heat of the moment, and that things would get back to normal next week or something, but not this. "Kunimitsu, I…trapped or not, I want to be…with you." Though he knew it was in vain, whenever Tezuka made up his mind about something, it was pretty much final.
"No. You will try to escape again from me, that is what you did tonight, and I don't blame you for it. I blame us, and of course, myself." Tezuka did not meet his gaze this time, "So, go. Go and don't look back, because if you do, I will see you suffer, that is the last thing I want to see."
It was amazing how much poise Tezuka possessed, even on a hospital bed, it was power; power to do what Fuji would never have the courage to do. "Kunimitsu, I—"
"Go, please." A genuine plea that sounded very odd coming from the captain. "Go and forget. Even at school,when we see each other;we'll just, pretend we don't see."
"Do something for me then, then…I will." Fuji rose awkwardly from the chair and laid a hand on Tezuka's forehead, "Tell me that I am precious, I will never hear it again, not from you, nor from anyone else."
Tezuka sighed and brushed away his hand, for fear of getting hold of it, and never letting go, "You are precious to me, more precious than these words can ever say, but I don't need to say them, because you know, Syusuke."
Fuji said, through a hard-plastered smile, "You too, Tezuka." Then left.
After five days, the racket came, along with a note that must've taken Tezuka ages to compose. The racket was old now, five years, to be exact, but Fuji had gone through the trouble of keeping it as new as possible, why? Just because. He had no answer to that. Except for the fraying of the felt grip at the edges, it was in decent condition.
"Excuse me, are you Fuji Syusuke?" a voice made him look up.
Fuji let go of the racket in surprise, letting it fall to the ground, where it landed with a crack, "You are…you're not Kunimitsu."
"No. I'm not." The youth standing in front of him agreed tonelessly, "I'm Kajimoto Takahisa, Tezuka said he had a previous engagement and sends his apologies." He looked at the empty half of the bench that Fuji was sitting on, "Do you mind if I sit down?"
As if he had a choice to begin with. Fuji nodded, struggling to be polite, "Please."
Kajimoto sat and studied the person beside him. So…this was Fuji Syusuke, the first word that came to mind was flimsy, but somehow, Fuji gave the impression of being anything but. His eyes found the racket. "That's his, isn't it?" In this conversation, the pronoun could only mean one person.
The other nodded again, although he verbally dodged the comment altogether. "A previous engagement with who? Obviously not you, since you're here."
"He had a…dinner meeting with his manager." This was partially true; Tezuka did say he was going to eat dinner with someone, though he didn't exactly specify the other, yet Kajimoto had a feeling that lying was necessary in a place like this.
"Kajimoto-san, I'm going to ask you a fairly strange question. Please be honest."
This was a fairly strange setup already, Kajimoto shrugged, "Fine."
"Which hand does Tezuka write with?"
Come to think of it, he'd never seen Tezuka write anything. Though he did play piano, and the louder hand was most likely his dominate hand, he had heard Tezuka play just the day before. "I haven't actually seen him write anything, but I'm guessing his left?"
"So it did heal." Fuji commented to himself, "I'm glad."
So did what heal? "What healed?" Kajimoto asked before he could stop himself, he'd been taught never to question anything, but what was out was out.
Fuji picked up the racket, "Do you play?"
Jumping from one subject to another was not something Kajimoto particularly excelled at, so he was momentarily taken back, "Tennis? Sometimes. I haven't had the chance to play Tezuka yet, if that's what you mean."
"I want you to play me a game of tennis, Kajimoto-san." Fuji smiled suddenly, "If you win, I'll tell you everything, if you lose, I'll say nothing, fair enough?"
Somehow, Kajimoto found himself nodding in agreement.
"Give me all you've got. Or else it won't be any fun, Kajimoto-san, you can use Kunimitsu's racket."
-x-
How did this happen? Kajimoto asked himself (not for the first time), at first, it seemed reasonably simple, Tezuka not wanting to meet his ex, so he was asked to pick up whatever it was that Fuji had to return.
Now, he was standing in a tennis court, preparing to play a boy that had been a stranger to him only ten minutes before, to make things even more ironic, he was playing with Tezuka's racket with a load of information at stake.
It was obvious that the other had planned this, the meeting place, the racket, and even the time was perfect. But it was supposed to be Tezuka in this scenario, not him, in his own opinion, he was as far from Tezuka Kunimitsu as one can get. "I want to ask you something, before we play."
"Yes, Kajimoto-san?" Fuji looked up from unzipping his racket cover. Smiling still, but now there was something else in the smile that made him hesitate.
"Why are you playing me? I'm not Tezuka."
That made him pause. "When you play a game, Kajimoto-san, don't you want to win? No matter who your opponent is? You don't go easy on them, do you?"
"Well, no. I suppose not. There are certain exceptions, however." This guy was certainly persistent, "For example, if I had a little sister and I was playing her, I wouldn't be going all out."
"When Kunimitsu played me, he'd never played me seriously, he would gain a little ground, then he would wait until I caught up, that was the way we always played, I hate it. I was never on equal ground with Tezuka, and that vexes me."
Forget the game, the information was coming whether he liked it or not. Kajimoto crossed over to the net, "It vexes you. It would vex anyone, me, and anyone Tezuka's played in the past."
"Tezuka didn't always play that way, he had this way of showing off his skills without bragging. We all admired him for that. In the middle of first year in junior high, he beat a senpai, I think a second year 6-0, with his right hand, and Tezuka was left-handed."
That explained the hand business. "Fuji-san, you don't have to force yourself to tell me."
"No, I've been wanting to say this for a long time, but I'd never had anyone to say it to." Fuji shook his head, "It might as well be you." He tapped the racket aimlessly on his knee, "Even though I should probably hate you, not you, but the part that you play."
It took guts to say that. "The part that I play?"
"Yes, the part that you play, you are Kunimitsu's boyfriend, aren't you?" Fuji regarded him calmly, "You told me yourself, that you were friends, when I was with Kunimitsu, I never said I was his boyfriend, I always said friend, that was what he wanted."
Was he, really? In a literally sense, yes, but they…
"Saa, sorry about that, Kajimoto-san." Fuji's voice suddenly brought him around again. The cerulean-eyed boy hauled himself off the ground, bringing the racket with him, "About the delay, we will began our match now."
