TITLE: Words
AUTHOR: Simply Kim
PAIRING: Atobe Keigo x Tezuka Kunimitsu
FANDOM: Tennis no Oujisama
THEME: #27 (Overflow), #8 (Our Own World)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything except this... (Piece of crap?) fic. ;
NOTE: I have always wondered at the intensity of the feelings (Warm, desperate, playful, sexual or otherwise...) conveyed by the Japanese band Glay. Because of it, I followed their music as closely as I could. Now, whenever I hear one of their old songs entitled "Rain", my heart actually aches. So, as I listen to it now, putting the single album on repeat, I write this story.
WORDS
He had been deluding himself all this time.
Walking aimlessly in a rainy evening, Atobe Keigo re-evaluated his life, what his present was, what his future would be – and what he had done in the past to break him the worst way possible.
The rain was falling down in huge torrents... as if God was crying bucketful of tears amid the blackness of the horizon. The stars were gone, as was the moon, and there was no light to guide him. As bright as the lit lamps were on the side of the road, his world was dim. The darkness residing deep in his heart and slowly consuming him. Soon, Atobe knew, if somehow, he didn't get the chance to turn it into something lighter, more meaningful, he would suffocate and die from the pain.
It had been more than five years since that fateful day, and yet he couldn't bring himself to forgive, forgive the other side of him that clamoured respect and acknowledgement. He had hurt someone the worst way possible and now he was suffering for it for all the lack of atonement he gave.
It was painful.
Few words that spoke so much...
Unconsciously, he clutched the small package in his coat pocket. It was soaked but it didn't matter. It was material... and it was not important as of the moment. The more pressing issue went beyond physical. Such was the pain he felt, just thinking about it.
If he didn't push, he wouldn't have been rewarded with what he wanted the most – submission, fame... victory. However, therein lay the fact that if he didn't push, he would be rewarded with so much more. Were his actions worth the tradeoffs?
If what he was experiencing now were any indication, he would readily say no.
OxxxOxxxO
Tezuka, for the life of him, could not understand what was happening. There was a tinge of regret as he stared at the wall clock of the library as if glued. There was something between them – a wall that blocked their freedom, the much-needed freedom to explore whatever it was that needed exploring in their vague relationship.
He was not blind, and he was not closing his eyes to reality. He saw it, it had always been there... and for some reason, whatever measure both of them took, it didn't give way and instead thickened to something that was unbreakable.
Sighing, he turned away from the clock, eyes bleary as he focused on the book lying open in front of him. He wasn't supposed to be staring off to some space; he was supposed to be studying. Unconsciously, his hand balled up into a fist and silently, he pounded on the table.
Everything started with a heartfelt remark – one he was not able to take back until Atobe decided their conversation was enough and shifted their topic to small talk. He could never erase the memory of pain-filled dark brown eyes, and the slight flinch that coerced his body... He had hurt him the worst way, and he tried apologising, but Atobe just brushed the apology off and started the same performance he had perfected through time.
A frown touched Tezuka's brows.
He should have pushed harder. Atobe was the same as he was, although the other didn't want to admit it. They showed nothing of what they really felt. What they were outside was not what they truly were. They were meant to disguise, meant to make people see them differently so that they would be left in peace.
Coming together, with such personalities, their reasons for putting up their respective facades backfired. Now, they were suffering because they can't change anymore... they had gotten so used their daily performances that they started to believe that they really were what they present themselves to be.
He should have been mindful of Atobe's sudden change in attitude instead of dismissing it as another of his fussy playacting. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the immediate onslaught of unshed tears. They threatened to flow, and he had to, for the sake of his icy walls, keep them at bay.
/ "Stop fussing about it – it's just one subject!" Atobe chuckled, shaking his head.
"It's going to affect my standing."
"Pshaw," Came the dismissive response, a moment of silence descending between them before Atobe went on excitedly. "I can always tell my dad to have your evil professor fired..."
Tezuka's brow furrowed. "Don't meddle in my affairs." He said warningly, displeasure evident in the way he moved, closing his notebook and slipping it in his backpack.
"Or we could bash him with a baseball bat. What do you think? You know what would make you feel better? The congratulatory gift I bought you for making it in this place is going to arrive a week from now – they're silver cufflinks..."
His answer was cold. "Causing injuries again? I don't need another pair of cufflinks. I don't need your pity, so stop saying useless things." /
The images of Atobe's pain-filled gaze tore their way into his soul and left him empty. Heaving a huge breath, pressed his index finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose to stop the stinging sensation and opened his eyes. He was not going to cry. He must be strong to get through this...
And he couldn't get through this alone.
With a decisive motion, he stood up, gathered his books, slung his backpack on his shoulder and hurried towards the exit, the tinkling of the keychains Atobe had given him on whim spurring him on, pushing him to move, making him remember what was the most important thing he had to do to attain the happiness and contentment he had been trying so hard to reach for more than five long years.
If he didn't push, he wouldn't be rewarded. Whatever action he took, he would make sure it would work out. There would be no negative tradeoffs; there was no room for error.
He couldn't risk losing him, could he?
If what he was feeling just thinking about it were any indication, he would readily say no.
OxxxOxxxO
For some reason, Atobe's feet dragged him off to the place he was hell-bent not to approach, Tezuka's house. It seemed as if his body was now rebelling against the urges of his mind. He knew that the pain would only intensify upon sight of the all too familiar wooden front door. Unconsciously, the hand in his pocket closed around the package he had been holding on to hours ago.
"/Causing injuries again? I don't need your pity, so stop saying useless things. /" He repeated softly, scanning the expanse of the two-storey house as if trying to memorise every nook and cranny. "Pity? Do you really think that?"
The cold seeped into his body as he was drenched by the pouring rain. Those were words he couldn't forget. They were delivered in a very cold tone before, as if willing him to deny it. Why was he being miserable over such stupid thing anyway? Running a cold shaky hand through his dripping hair, he blinked repeatedly, trying to keep rainwater off his eyes.
It may be true... but it hurt.
He mulled over what had happened. It started out as a petty argument over school subjects and university grading systems, but somehow, the wall between them started to morph, suffocating them both as it transformed into the ugly beast filled with painful personal memories that haunted them until the present. The rigid tone in Tezuka's voice proved its presence, and the emptiness in the pit of his stomach its testament.
He was being hurtled back to that day, five years ago, where he had not been thinking of anything but himself and his ideals. He was somehow being transported to being the him he was striving hard to let go... and yet he couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, it would never let him go. Everytime he saw the tension on Tezuka's left shoulder every time the weather was too cold, it would rear its ugly face and show him what a conniving monster he had been.
Maybe Tezuka was feeling the same way, experiencing the full brunt of the emotional and physical tragedy.
They had been living in a cocoon spun into a vague relationship that had little question of boundary. They spent days and nights together since the bespectacled senior decided to enter Hyoutei Daigaku, being the only ones with some sort of close proximity back in the days when tennis was a major part of their lives.
When they were lonely, they comforted each other with tender touches and gentle caresses...
When nights were unoccupied, they spent it outside in a moonlit walk or inside Atobe's flat, merging their lower bodies until sparks explode gloriously behind their lids in ecstasy...
It wasn't pity over Tezuka's standing in one of his subjects that made Atobe insist on doing ridiculous things as paying a visit to his teacher and demanding he change the unfair grades and pounding the elder professor on the head with a baseball bat.
He was trying to make the situation feel a lot lighter, and at the same time, trying to contain the surge of emotion that threatened to break the barrier he had crafted for so long. It was not pity – it was... something else. He blinked. Something else that may not be the best thing to be in at the moment... but can a person really help it?
Slowly, as if he aged ten years, he shuffled forward, turned his back and slid wetly down the concrete wall. It didn't matter to him if the dirt was messing the back of his pants, he felt better this way. It alleviated the pain he felt that was boring deep inside him.
Lightning flashed and thunder rolled in the distance... and with it, came a familiar figure rushing straight to where he was. His eyes widened and he struggled to get up. He couldn't speak for fear that he may say something he would regret.
"Keigo." Tezuka said, his voice almost drowned by another bout of thunder.
The first thing Atobe noticed were his eyes. They were so full of emotion and unexpressed words, that he was sure Tezuka's psyche was a hair's breadth of exploding. But he needed not voice them out. Atobe could see them as clear as day – the apology, the pain, the loneliness, the insecurity... the one true thing that connected them. They were all there.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before he decided to break it. He started to open his mouth to say anything that would explain his presence, pining and drenched in front of Tezuka's house, but the words died in his throat.
Tezuka rushed forward and embraced him wordlessly; his arms warm despite the coldness and wetness of the rainwater that soaked him the same way it did him. The mere act brought the unwanted tears to be shed, sliding hotly with the downpour as if branding him permanently. He never wanted it to be like this. Such tender moment warranted conducive surroundings, like in front of warm fireplaces or in a secluded beach... not this.
And yet he couldn't help seeing perfection.
"I was looking all over for you." He heard Tezuka whisper in his ear. "I thought you were lost."
Atobe held him just as tightly. "Ore-sama thought so too." He chuckled through the chain of emotions his shaking voice came with. Then, the sobering reality caught up with him. "I thought I never had you."
Tezuka shook his head, his admission as quiet as he was wont to do, but he could feel words being mouthed silently, pressed against the skin on the curve of his neck.
Hearing them was not necessary.
All Atobe did was smile a genuine smile that stemmed from the happiness and contentment in his soul – and whispered the same words in Tezuka's ear.
I'm not deluding myself after all.
ENDE
A/N: This is my third entry for this pairing. I'm off to my obsessive typing for my mom's reviewers again. Hope you enjoyed it! Feedbacks are greatly appreciated.