The road back to you
One day Tezuka is waiting for the shinkansen to arrive. To pass the time, he glances around him, at the impassive rows of people, at the empty tracks, at the newsstands. He spills his coffee- it makes a dusty brownish puddle on the platform, his pants are saved because they are black, and when he looks back up at the disapproving crowd around him he (finishes) begins blanking out.
He apologizes in his quiet murmur, his "speaking in public" voice.
The coffee cup has to go, of course, and he needs to find some towels to dry his pants and wipe off his shoes. The restroom is upstairs and he misses his train. The teaching assistant took care of his morning class, and somewhere in the haze of Tezuka remembers to feel grateful. He knows his students well enough by now that he can autopilot his way through any class. The girls are concerned for their professor, but they are hurried off to the next class by the T.A. Some give him pointed looks, but he is beyond caring.
During lunch break he realizes he has to talk to the head of department and the dean in the afternoon. Tezuka knows that he can't possibly autopilot his way through this appointment. So he excuses himself. They are duly concerned, but he detects a faint tone of relief in the dean's voice. Disappointment wells up in the back of his throat before he can take a long drink of tea.
He doesn't recall going back home after, but he must have, because he's sitting on the corner of his bed (how does he know it's his?). The dryer stops buzzing, but Tezuka makes no move to get up and empty it of today's clothes. There's an odd stifled feeling at the back of his neck, it's not his usual migraine- it's almost like the pressure he felt during his first few weeks at the university, unaccustomed wearing a tie at work everyday.
Taking his glasses off makes things marginally better, but he wishes he had someone here with him.
The door opens and closes. He hears the sound of magazines slapping against each other on the table. Damage control can come later.
Tezuka doesn't ask about the tournaments, the rounds of press conferences, the angry fans (or worse, the cannibalistic reporters with their cameras), he only pulls Ryoma closer, to rest his forehead on the other's shoulder before welcoming him home.
A/N: Wow, it feels like it's been such a long time... Feedback welcome!