Tezuka turned around to see none other than Yukimura himself. Yukimura withdrew his racket. Yukimura's smile was a little too saccharine and Tezuka, having years of experience dealing with Fuji, knew that brand of smile promised trouble. The feeling of foreboding didn't go away, even as Yukimura tilted his head to the side in an attempt to look harmless.
"So that's it."
Tezuka gave him Yukimura's own stare, asking plainly, What's it?
"You're the reason Genichirou skipped practice. Huh." Yukimura lazily twirled his racket in an elegant fashion. Tezuka was mildly surprised. "Come play a match with me."
Tezuka sighed before following, unzipping his own racket. He didn't ask how Yukimura knew his way around Seigaku. When Tezuka got to the court, word had spread like a wildfire and gossip combined and they had a ton of spectators. Tezuka didn't see Ryoma or Fuji anywhere, but didn't think on it long because Yukimura was talking to him again.
"Smooth or rough?" Yukimura called, walking onto a spare court.
"Smooth," Tezuka replied. Not that it mattered. It landed on rough. It was Yukimura's serve. Steeling himself for what was bound to be a surprise, Tezuka tightened his grip on his racket. Yukimura's ball whizzed by Tezuka before he could blink. Tezuka thought, Huh, so it's going to be that sort of game.
*
Fuji had planned to go to the locker room, pick up his bag, go home in his tennis uniform and shower there, but he'd seen a familiar black cap and had to come up with an alternate plan. And so he switched course and backtracked to the locker rooms. Though not before sending a quick heads up to his favorite Buchou.
Fuji liked the locker rooms quiet, which a rare occurrence. It was calming. Or was it? Did the absence of sound and lockers slamming leave thinking unavoidable? Yes, Fuji supposed it did. His thoughts turned around and around like clockwork.
Fuji had gone out with Yukimura to make Tezuka jealous. And it had backfired. Badly. But no matter, Tezuka was happy and Fuji was alone again. Yukimura had been amusing, his way of thinking reflected Fuji's and yes, Fuji had been attracted to him. But Yukimura, despite his girly features, was sharp around the edges. Fuji had the impression that if he touched Yukimura without permission, he'd end up bleeding. Fuji knew many said the same of him. But he wasn't like Atobe Keigo and he wasn't in love with himself. He was in love, or at least, in like, with Tezuka. And Yukimura wasn't Tezuka. So something had been missing, might always be missing. Some might say that it was Fuji's heart that was missing, but that was too philosophical for Fuji.
Fuji didn't look up even as he sensed another person in the room.
"Buchou's with Sanada, then." Only one person besides Fuji himself (and Tezuka) could be at the top of their game without attending every practice. Ryoma had apparently decided to end practice a little early as well.
Fuji finished tying his shoes. He stood up, slinging his racket bag over his shoulder. "Mmmm."
"Guess I'm out of luck." Ryoma sounded bored.
Fuji winced internally. He accepted that he wasn't going to be anything more than Tezuka's best friend. And hell if he was going to be anything less. Still, suddenly discovering the rookie had a thing for their captain was a bit…nauseating. Fuji didn't need any more competition.
"I mean, I guess you're pretty heartbroken, huh."
Fuji's gaze sharpened in on Ryoma, which was exactly what the rookie had wanted.
"Shouldn't I be the one offering my condolences? I thought you liked Tezuka," Fuji stated coolly.
Ryoma shook his head. "Why does everyone think that? I mean, yeah, Buchou's hot and talented and all…But he's Buchou. He's a bit too, for want of a better word, stoic."
Fuji had no idea where this was going and didn't plan to stick around long enough to find out. He wanted to wrap things up quickly, go home, call Yuuta and forget about ever liking Tezuka Kunimitsu. "Was there something you wanted?"
"Yeah."
Fuji stared at him, letting the room fill with his irritation. Ryoma had the grace to take a step backwards before taking three steps forward.
"This." With all the awkwardness that his age allowed, Ryoma reached up on tip toe to crush his lips against Fuji's. "The one I want is you. Maybe you'll come around and want me back." Ryoma sank back on the soles of his feet. He tipped his hat down, covering his eyes.
Fuji had recovered and was once again three steps ahead of him. He took Ryoma's chin in his hand, tilting it upwards. He bent forward so they were only a hair's breadth away. "I've had enough time to think. In fact, I've been thinking for too long." Fuji smiled as they shared their third kiss. Ryoma, like Tezuka, had the ability to pick up his train of thought.