Epilogue

Setting: Four years after Chapter 9.

Atobe leaned against the doorjamb. "Do you plan on making a grand late entrance?"

Suzume looked at his reflection in her mirror. "No, I thought that was your plan."

"I make grand entrances, but not late ones – at least not to my friend's wedding."

"We won't be late. I wouldn't dream of being late to Yuushi's wedding, so don't worry. I'm almost done," she said, fishing out a pair of earrings from a box. She put them on, checked herself in the mirror and turned. "How do I look?"

"Like the wife of Atobe Keigo should look: gorgeous."

She picked up her handbag. "Hmm. Does that mean you're going to divorce me and marry a younger, more beautiful woman when I get old and ugly?"

"You'll get old, but you'll never be ugly so I won't have to," he said, catching her from behind as she passed by him in the doorway. "Besides, when you're born with beauty I don't think you'll ever lose it."

"Oh really?"

He nuzzled her neck and took in the scent of her perfume. "Yes, really. Just look at me, for example."

She turned to face him. "Looking at you, I fear my own natural-born beauty would fade as quickly." His expression turned irritated and she laughed. "Oh come, you know I'm joking. Surely after four years of being married you know that." She leaned forward and kissed him lightly. "Let's go. Don't want to be late," she said, starting to walk away.

Atobe pulled her back. "Surely after four years of marriage, you don't think I'm going to let you get away with that miserable kiss?"

"If you don't, we're going to be late," she said, squirming a little.

"Late? Late for what?" He bent and kissed her without giving her a chance to protest.

Suzume broke away moments later, slightly breathless. "Keigo… Really, we'll be late."

"So?" He raised her chin and kissed her again. "He was late for my wedding," he added with a grin before moving his lips to kiss the side of her face.

"You're ruining my makeup," she murmured, her eyes involuntarily closing. Her bag fell to the floor with a muffled sound but she barely noticed it, much less remembered that she was holding a bag in the first place.

"Doesn't matter. You're beautiful even without it." Then he captured her lips with his again, kissing her more thoroughly than before. He stepped backwards into their room, taking her with him, and slammed the door shut with one hand.

----------

Yumi was talking to some of her old girl friends when Oishi found her at their high school reunion dinner. She excused herself from their company to talk to him for a while.

"I haven't seen you in a few months," she said. "How are things? And how's Miyuki?"

"I'm doing all right, thanks. Miyuki's still in Okinawa."

Yumi regarded the green-eyed doctor for a moment and then drew him into a warm hug that said more than words of sympathy could.

"Thanks."

"You looked like you needed it," she said, patting his shoulder reassuringly.

"That bad, huh?"

"Not really. But there was just something about the way you said 'Okinawa' that got to me."

He smiled wryly. "Never mind that for now. I wanted to ask how you are. I just heard the news from Nomiya –"

She held up a hand and cut him short. "Yeah," she said with a slight smile. "That's right. But let's not discuss that here. I haven't told Syuusuke or Sae yet. Only our families know so far. And Emiko too – I told her last week. Those two will go ballistic to find out I didn't immediately tell them…"

"Why didn't you tell Fuji yet?"

"Yes," chimed in a new voice. "Why didn't you tell Fuji yet?"

Yumi turned at the light pressure of a hand on her shoulder. "Syuu!"

"Yo," said Fuji to her. He waved slightly to Oishi. "Nice to see you here too. Now, what's this that you haven't told me yet, hime?" His eyes gleamed with the look of having potentially uncovered some interesting news.

Yumi sighed. "And I had this whole delightful plot thought up on how to best shock you and Sae with it at the same time…" She met Fuji's intrigued look with as steady a gaze as she could manage and said, "I'm expecting."

For a moment, Fuji just blinked at her. "Expecting what?"

She stared at him. "A present from you."

He stared back. "Oh."

She rolled her eyes. "A baby, baka. I'm pregnant." The last was said with the faintest flush on her face.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Fuji turned to look at Oishi, who nodded. "So my colleague tells me."

The blue-eyed stare returned to Yumi. "Shall I go up on stage and make the announcement?"

"If you do that, Syuu, I will kill you."

"If you killed me, Rei would be sad," said Fuji, referring to his fiancée.

"Actually," said Oishi, "I think Tezuka would kill him first."

"Oh… That's right. And I'm sure Rei would sympathise with us."

"What friends I have – full of murderous intent," said Fuji. He chuckled. "Anyway, congrats!" Enfolding her in a quick hug, he went on to say, "Now, how do you plan to drop this bombshell on Sae?"

"Not sure yet. I'll have to rethink my initial plan since that one had the both of you in the same place for maximum effect."

Fuji laughed. "So, where's the father?" he asked, casting a look around. "Assuming he knows he's going to be a father."

Oishi laughed and Yumi looked indignant. "Of course he knows! You think I wouldn't tell him? Anyway, he's somewhere around." She gestured vaguely with a hand. "He went off with Arisada to talk to some of the others while I was talking to Hana and Tatsuki."

"How delightful. You have no idea where your husband is!"

"… I wonder how Rei stands you."

"The same way you stand me and have done so for all these years," replied Fuji placidly.

----------

Yumi leaned back on her palms and looked up at the sky. She could pick out a few stars, but not many. Light pollution from the city made it hard to stargaze. But she figured seeing a few was better than none. A night breeze blew past and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool wind.

She heard Tezuka step onto the porch behind her. She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. He was holding two cups and set one down by her hand.

"Hot chocolate," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Oh! Thanks," she said, giving him a surprised and grateful look. "Tea, I suppose?" she asked, nodding towards his cup.

"Yeah. Did you tell Fuji already, by the way? He gave me the most impish look and shook my hand extra hard before we left."

"I had to – I was talking to Oishi-kun and he overheard a bit so I had to tell him." She shrugged. "There goes my Shock-Syuusuke-and-Sae plan."

Tezuka chuckled a little before subsiding into silence. They sat quietly for some time, looking at the stars and enjoying each other's company and their warm drinks in the cool night.

"What shall we call her?" he said suddenly.

"Her?"

"The little one."

"How do you know it's a girl? It's still way too early to tell."

"Just a feeling. A guess."

"What if it's a boy?"

"We'll just think of another name then."

"Better start thinking. I think it'll be a boy."

"Hmm…" He set his cup down. "Well, girl or boy, I don't think it matters. It'll be ours all the same."

Yumi smiled at him for a second, then shifted to sit straighter and leaned towards him. Then she brushed her fingers along his jaw line and kissed him.

"What was that for?" he asked seconds later, looking pleasantly surprised.

"For being such a great guy – and because I felt like it," she replied.

She started to move away but he turned her face towards him again and kissed her deeply.

"Finish what you started," he murmured against her lips.

"If most of our friends ever heard or even glimpsed you being romantic, I think they'd just about keel over from shock," she said with a small giggle at the next chance she got to speak. He grinned slightly and proceeded to continue what they had been doing until the need for air became overwhelming.

Tezuka placed a light kiss on the base of her neck before enfolding her in his arms. He felt content. Fifteen years ago he would never have imagined being satisfied with anything less than being among the highest echelons of tennis players and starting a family hardly even crossed his mind until he had finished university, but that just proved that 'growing up' could change things a lot. And grow up he had.

----------

"… So I get to be the godfather," finished Saeki, stretching his arms behind his head.

"Careful with that chair – it's wobbly," warned Kurobane. "What about Fuji?"

"What does he need to be a godfather for? He's getting married soon. He'll have little Fuji Syuusukes running all over the place in no time –"

Scary, thought Kurobane.

"– and since I'm the unattached one, it's only fitting. Yu agrees." Saeki grinned, then said, "Tell me when it's four o'clock. I need to go pick up my niece and take her to her piano lesson." He bent his head back and closed his eyes. "I'm going to take a nap now."

"What? Here?"

"I can't sleep at my own place – it gets the afternoon sun. Too hot. It's comfy here," said Saeki without opening his eyes and leaning further back in the chair. It creaked.

"You're not going to make a habit of this, are you?" Kurobane eyed him as though he suspected that that was indeed what was going to happen.

"Who knows," Saeki remarked lazily.

"And what do you expect me to do while you nap here?"

"Sleep too? You still have your bed." Saeki swivelled the chair to one side so he could prop his feet up on the windowsill.

Kurobane wondered what would happen if he kicked Saeki. Dabide had never retaliated in kind to any punishment delivered for his lame jokes, but Saeki probably would – more out of boyish fun than anything else though. But it would still hurt. And his room would be turned upside down in the ensuing ruckus.

A loud creak drew his eyes to where Saeki was, long legs stretched out and chair tilted back. The creak seemed to come from the part where the chair joined the rollers.

"Oi, Sae…"

"Hmm?"

"Don't lean so far back."

"I know, I know." He opened his eyes. "Don't worry. It's not going to break." To demonstrate, he propped one foot against the windowsill to push the chair backwards even more. "See?"

The chair didn't break.

But even as he pushed, it gave another loud creak and slid out from under him, landing him on the carpet with a thud and rolling serenely away to the other end of the room, the top part still wobbling.

Kurobane helped Saeki up, miraculously keeping a straight face. Then he looked at the rogue chair, now quietly standing in the far corner.

"Well… It didn't break."

----------

"Suzume!" called Atobe, finally catching sight of her in the busy room.

She turned and saw him. "Keigo!" She frowned. "You're not supposed to be backstage. Why are you – oh, what?" A man with a hairbrush and scissors in his hand tapped her shoulder and asked her something. "I'll be right there," she said. She looked apologetically at Atobe. "Sorry, no time to talk right now. And you're not supposed to be here! Anyway, go sit outside and amuse yourself, okay? I'll see you later."

Being thus turned out of the dressing room, Atobe stuffed his hands into his pockets and wondered what in the world he was supposed to do until "later." He looked at his watch. The runway show wasn't due to start for another half an hour. He made a face. He should have taken up Sawada's offer to go for lunch first after the meeting. Suzume wouldn't have noticed even if he slid into the room after the show began. She'd be backstage with Yumi coordinating the show anyway.

He strolled aimlessly around the garden area outside the main building for a while, contemplating if he should call Sawada and tell him that he'd join him after all. There were people milling around – probably those who had been at the earlier session and were now waiting for Suzume's show. An expression that was half-smile, half-smirk crossed his face. Suzume's show. To some extent, he couldn't help but feel proud. It was rather interesting to have a fashion designer wife. (At least now no one could say he had bad taste in clothes. He would have legitimate reason to get back at them if they did – since they'd be indirectly insulting his wife... And he couldn't let that go, could he?)

Noticing that the main doors had opened, he followed the crowd that was slowly streaming in. He cast a look around the hall for any familiar face – and found Tezuka. The other man was sitting quietly in one of the pale blue-grey chairs that lined the runway, reading a book.

Atobe sat down in the chair next to him and folded his arms. "You're early."

Eyes still on the book in his hand, Tezuka said, "So are you." He finished reading the last sentence of the paragraph and then closed the book, but kept one finger between the pages to mark his place. "Why are you here this early?"

"Had nothing better to do after my meeting. You?"

"I brought Yumi here."

"Oh. You've been here the whole time then?"

"Pretty much."

"Didn't think you were interested in this sort of stuff," said Atobe, flicking a hand around the hall to indicate "this sort of stuff."

"Not really." Tezuka removed his glasses, blew off a speck of dust and put them back on again. "But Yumi is. So I try." He shrugged slightly.

"Hm." Atobe looked up at the floodlights hanging from the ceiling. "That reminds me. Suzume told me the news yesterday. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Married only a year and already going to have a kid, eh? Been 'busy,' I see," said Atobe with his trademark smirk.

The other man merely regarded him with a disinterested glance and then turned towards the runway. "Not as 'busy' as you," he said coolly. "Certainly not so much that I'm late for other people's weddings."

Atobe's smirk vanished. Where had Tezuka heard that from? He most certainly hadn't been at Oshitari's wedding. "Sometimes I think I liked you better when you didn't talk as much," he grumbled as the lights dimmed for the show.

Tezuka shifted to a slightly more comfortable position in his chair and put the book on his lap. "I hardly talked in school," he remarked mildly, "and yet one would have thought you didn't like me back then either."

Atobe said something, but was drowned out by the music starting and the applause as the show began. He didn't seem to notice that he couldn't be heard and Tezuka didn't bother asking him to repeat himself so all he caught seconds later – once the applause had died down and the first model took to the runway – was, "… and when did you start talking back to me anyway?"

Tezuka wondered what made Atobe think that he wasn't supposed to 'talk back' to him in the first place. He refrained from voicing his thoughts, though. Some things were just more fun kept to oneself. He simply shrugged and said nothing.

The nonchalant shrug annoyed Atobe even more. He had a suspicion Tezuka was laughing at him on the inside. By the time he worked up something scathing to say, Tezuka interrupted him with an aggravatingly calm, "I don't think Suzume-san would be very appreciative if you were here but remember absolutely nothing of the actual show, Atobe."

At that point he became aware that probably almost half of the models had already come and gone on the catwalk and grudgingly dragged his attention to the show. Aggravating though he might be, Tezuka had a point. Suzume was never too amused when he was present at one of their shows and yet appeared to recall not even the last dress to come out on the runway.

So he watched. A bit apathetically, but he watched. He had little interest in women's fashion – unless it was on Suzume; in which case it then became very interesting. He didn't particularly understand the ins and outs of the fashion world, but he didn't doubt that she was skilled at what she did, and had excellent business sense to boot. Atobe never bothered denying that he was rather proud of her. No reason to deny it when she was sophisticated, skilled and absolutely gorgeous. He defied any of his acquaintances and friends to find a girlfriend or a wife like her.

Tezuka wondered what that huge smirk on Atobe's face was for. He could think of a few explanations for it, but decided not to bother guessing. Atobe had a smirk on half the time anyway. It was miracles that it didn't get stuck like that permanently after all those years of smirking.

He noted as the last few models came out one by one. A feeling of relief washed over him. He tried to be interested, but overall had generally failed to cultivate a decent awareness of the fashion industry, only managing a mild interest at most. Yumi probably knew it, though, since she didn't really get upset whenever he eventually admitted ignorance of the goings-on in the fashion shows. That was a blessing – he didn't fancy getting her angry at him. Whenever she did, it normally resulted in an argument and that was never a pleasant experience. But then he would rather argue with her than with anyone else as long as it meant he was still with her.

All the models emerged on the catwalk again for one last turn and the audience applauded as they had at the beginning. He straightened himself a little so he could see better and there, as he had learnt to expect, at the end of the line of models, were Suzume and Yumi. He knew she probably couldn't see him because of the glaring floodlights trained on the catwalk. But he didn't mind. She knew he was there, and usually the knowledge alone was enough for her.

Anyhow he was glad he didn't have anything urgent to do at work that weekend so he could attend the show. Yumi had been moodier than usual lately – "it's the hormones or something," his father had said, "your mother was like that at first too when she had you" – and that morning itself she had been somewhat blue when they left the house. It was added relief to see her looking happier for the moment at least. He didn't think many things in life could compare to seeing her smile.

Then when all the lights were turned on again and people either milled around or streamed out, he rose from his seat.

"Where are you going?" asked Atobe.

"To find my wife," he answered with a faint "what else" expression on his face. "Aren't you going to look for yours?"

"Of course I am!" Atobe stood up and joined him. "Why didn't you say so earlier?" He flipped some of strands of hair off his forehead. (There really was no other word for it, in Tezuka's opinion – Atobe flipped his hair. Apparently even Suzume couldn't knock all the vanity out of him. Arrogance was one thing, vanity was another.)

"What's with that look?" demanded Atobe, catching a flicker of amusement from Tezuka.

"Nothing."

THE END.

Thank you for reading, minna-sama!

Better be thankful for Develicious, who helped me get through this chapter (I think I fussed and struggled with it for well over a month) and especially helped with most of the 'sappy', romantic parts. D

I might - MIGHT - write an in-between story covering the four years between chapter 9 and the epilogue, but that would only revolve around Tezuka and Yumi, not Atobe and Suzume (though they might make appearances). I simply don't have the energy to keep on writing about Atobe (when he's happy).
There's also some possibility of stories about Saeki, Oishi, Fuji, Yukimura. But it's all up in the air right now, so there's no guarantee. Don't get your hopes up in case I don't write them. If I do write them, I might not post them here either. Why? Various reasons, including that the formatting annoys me, and the flamer culture. I'll leave them on Endless-Dreamers or have my own small space somewhere for the stories.

Oh well.

We'll see what happens, yea?

I hope you enjoyed reading this story. :)