Author's Notes: I was supposed to finish this a month before but my computer broke down and I had to write using a pen and a paper. Supposedly as well, this was the last chapter. Yet because I don't want it to drag, it won't be. This will be the second to the last one.

Fic Notes: The italicized parts are either thoughts of the characters or flashbacks. It's easy to decipher which is which.

Disclaimers: Everything other than the plot and the silver chains are Konomi-sensei's. Lucky, lucky guy.

Silver Chains

Chapter Six: The Choices We Make

Three a.m., Atobe read before pouring red wine into Fuji's out held glass. The tensai had just come in a few minutes ago and had asked for a glass of wine. It was his answer when the Hyotei buchou asked if he knew what time it was and where had he been.

He poured one for himself as well. It was really good that the redecoration of the mansion was finished. He couldn't stand being in the hotel. It was a bit too cramped.

He should've learned a long time ago that tensais never answered questions they didn't want to answer. Being friends with Oshitari should've taught him that. Tensais would only answer such questions with a shrug or, in Fuji's case, a "Saa…"

He had not expected Atobe to open the door of the humongous mansion by the time he got back. After all, he had seen a lot of servants when he arrived earlier in the evening. He had expected a butler. He had not expected him there to wait up nor did he expect him to ask such questions – wasn't he Atobe and not Oishi? He didn't even expect his boyfriend to be up.

"Did you get through Tezuka?"

"Saa…"

Atobe closed his eyes, trying to be as patient as he could. He deserved a proper answer, dammit! He was Tezuka's best friend. He was the one who made Fuji's trip to Germany possible. He was…

"I accidentally told him about Kojiroh's trip to Egypt." He called it 'trip' instead of 'move'. So he was still hoping for a change of plans. There was nothing wrong with doing so, right?

The Hyotei buchou just raised an eyebrow. He did not expect the tensai to be careless.

"He was talking about opportune time and waiting for it." He took a sip. "I suddenly mentioned Egypt."

"And of course knowing your stubborn buchou, he didn't let go of the subject."

Fuji chuckled. "You seem to know Tezuka well."

"Tezuka and I are rivals," he simply said. "So? What did you do?"

"I changed the subject." He drank the last of his wine, eyes closing, his face returning to its usual appearance. For a moment, Atobe thought, it seemed to be only an illusion that Fuji cared and worried so much about Tezuka and Saeki.

"Is Ryoma asleep?"

The taller of the two pointed towards the room where the young brat was. "He hasn't been out of that room since dinner."

"Sou…"

Atobe watched the tensai walk away without another word, without explaining what happened next – leaving him alone with speculations and a hope that Fuji got through his rival. And said rival listened.

He twirled his glass, the wine swirling like the thoughts in his mind.

Tezuka…

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Atobe deserved more answers, that Fuji knew. But the answers he wanted weren't the ones the tensai could give right now.

Cerulean eyes opened, softening at the sight of his boyfriend curled under the sheets. He owed this boy so much and he knew this was the person who deserved all explanations possible. And yet he couldn't explain all; he couldn't find the words on how to do so.

He was thankful Echizen hadn't said anything. Yet.

He sat the edge of the bed, fingers running through those soft greenish-ebony locks. Ryoma… What could he say? What could he tell this boy? What words would suffice?

He didn't know.

He pushed the stray locks of hair away, fingers slowly and gently caressing Echizen's face as if outlining it. He knew the freshman hated being watched while he slept but he couldn't help it.

"I love you, Ryoma." That was the only thing he could say now.

Golden eyes slowly opened, assured that Fuji had gone to the bathroom to freshen up. He sighed.

It had been rare nowadays to hear his smiling boyfriend say those words. Fuji had been too busy with his Tezuka-Saeki project to even bother teasing him. They had rarely hung around each other making him fall back to his usual hamburgers-after-school with Momoshiro. And even though he wouldn't admit it, he wanted the tensai back.

He missed his Fuji.

But the way Fuji had phrased… no, it was the tone he used… it was different. Even if his boyfriend had said it a million times before, it was different now.

He quickly closed his eyes as he heard Fuji padding towards the bed. Even though he knew that Fuji he wasn't really asleep, he didn't want to confirm it. He still wanted to be "asleep" as possible.

Fuji's hands snaked around his waist, pulling him closer to the tensai. And there it was again – something different in the honey-haired one. Fuji was holding him… lovingly.

A small smile escaped his lips, one that said how content he was now that he was in his boyfriend's arms. Sans the snarkiness now, the smile was.

I love you, too, Syusuke.

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"It's not waiting for the opportune time, Tezuka. It's creating it."

"Kunimitsu, there has to be a bloody good reason for calling me out for a game at four in the morning," Hannah called out from the other side of the court, preparing to serve.

But Tezuka had said nothing, Fuji's words still fresh in his mind.

It was, in the buchou's opinion, necessary for a person to wait for the most opportune time before executing his or her plan. In tennis, this was something that could give you the advantage in a game. Patience was needed in waiting until your opponent showed his weakness. And the moment he showed it, you strike. Then you win the point, the game, the set, the match.

"It's not waiting for the most opportune time, Tezuka. It's creating it."

It was one of the zone's principles – patience, waiting. He would draw the ball towards him, repeatedly, before finally launching his zero shiki. It took all his patience to make the opponent run around the court and wait until he gets tired.

And waiting for the most opportune time would not be in vain for it reaped good results.

"I know it's four a.m., Kunimitsu but show some passion in your game! There's not even an expression in your face!" Hannah cried out, smashing the ball.

He wasn't Fuji. He did not have Higuma Otoshi to counter the smash. But he had the zone and he could use it to stop Hannah from scoring a point.

"You're afraid you can't express your feelings."

He shrugged. "I'm not good with words, aren't I? Neither is my face good at expressing my feelings."

Fuji looked at his companion, swinging on the swings. They had wandered to this playground while walking to Atobe's mansion. Tezuka had suddenly stopped and walked toward the swings. He had followed in suite; it was rare to see his buchou in the mood for contemplating and including him it.

"That's the reason why you want to come home before you tell him. Distance is a big problem, ne?"

"Aa…" At least, he thought, with him in Japan, he could think of ways on how to tell Saeki – make Saeki feel – that he loved him. But with their continental distance right now, it was near impossible.

And with Saeki's departure to Egypt… all his plans went up in flames.

"It's what happened to us."

Tezuka's gaze shifted, locking his chocolate eyes with the tensai's deep blue ones. Sadness had swept through those normally nonchalant features, his heart as if worn on his sleeves. And he didn't care.

"Fuji…"

The honey-haired shrugged off his prior expression, placing his casual smile on his lips.

"The distance, can you cross it, Tezuka?"

But Hannah's smash had no spin.

Impossible, his mind exclaimed.

"Is that all you have, Kunimitsu? Your infamous zone?"

Russet sharpened. He had been broken before and he had conquered that limitation. He would conquer it now as well.

"Move, you fool!"

But how could he counter it? Without the zone, without higuma otoshi? Without knowing another move to counter it?

The ball shot pass him.

"What happened to you, Kunimitsu?" asked Hannah, one hand on her waist.

He averted his eyes from hers, fixing them in his racket – his finger arranging the strings.

"I have no way of countering it."

"Of course you don't! You know why? Because you didn't move, stupid!"

He shrugged.

"You can't always use the zone and just wait for the ball to come to you. Waiting won't do you any good. You need to create the opportunity to attack!"

Hannah sighed, placing her racket on her shoulder. "You create an opportunity to score, Kunimitsu. You don't just wait for it."

His fingers gripped the strings tighter than he intended, eyes widening at her statement. Fuji's words floated in his mind once more.

He had waited before, waited for an opportune time to tell Fuji his feelings. But things happened while he waited. Things that made sure the opportune time never came.

And now, he was waiting again. This time, for Saeki.

"Kunimitsu, have you even heard anything I said?"

Was waiting still the appropriate thing to do? Or was it time to create the opportunity he usually waited for? Or was he waiting not because of Saeki or the opportune time but for himself? Could that be the reason for the delay?

Tezuka nodded, fetching the ball. It was his serve.

Hannah shrugged, returning the younger one's service. There was something bothering him, she could see. It was probably the reason why he called her so early to play. Playing tennis had always helped him think, he said. She just hoped she was really helping her.

Forehand topspin. Backhand cross shot. Rising. Buggy whip. Forehand.

And there it was. Another sinker ball from Hannah.

"It's not waiting for the opportune time, Tezuka. It's creating it."

The sun was beginning to rise behind Hannah, the streetlights dimming one by one. It was strange, Tezuka thought, since of all the things Fuji said a few hours ago, it was the one he remembered the most. It replayed in his mind over and over again.

"KUNIMITSU!"

He ran towards the direction of the ball. The zone won't work, he would have to counter it another way.

His trainer smiled, though knowing that she wouldn't get the next shot. "Game won by Kunimitsu, four games to three." She laughed. "It's still my lead, though."

From behind Hannah, streaks of sunlight seeped through the dark sky. The sun rose slowly, painting the sky with such illuminating colors. Earth eyes softened as an image flashed in his mind. A person who loved the sunrise so much.

"And Tezuka…"

He raised his eyes, meeting the other's dark blue ones.

"Please don't tell Kojiroh you love him just because he's leaving. Say it because you do." A faint but sad smile passed by his face. "Don't let what happened to me happen to you."

Tezuka's eyes traveled to his left wrist, the light casting a glittering illusion on the silver chain around it. Legend or not, coincidence or not, there was his feeling. His heart was telling him something he had shut down for a long time.

I promise, Fuji. I promise not to make your mistake again.

I promise.

.tsu.zu.ku.