I'M SO-O-RRYYYYYYY! I really hate myself right now!
Little known fact: When you break your thumb, production is slowed down considerably. Especially when you fall out of your writing groove. Can we go back to 2011, when I actually updated on time? Although, if you're reading this any amount of time after it was published, that was all irrelevant!
Here We Go Again
Chapter Twenty-One: Meanwhile, In Japan
Part I
The sun beat down on him, contrasting with the morning chill and his cool sweat. A gentle wind was tousling his hair around, and a pleasant burn lingered in his muscles from morning practice.
"Okay guys, good work today!" echoed Ryoga's voice across the courts. "The Kanto Tournament starts tomorrow, so there won't be any afternoon practice, got it? Now go get your asses to class!" yelled the man from his spot by the courts' main entrance.
A few members, Fuji included, laughed at their coach's speech. Though Ryoma's brother commanded respect, and indeed a little awe, he was very different from Ryuzaki-sensei. His workouts were harsh, difficult, and helpful, but there was a much hazier line between coach, friend, and instructive older brother with him. The maternal concern was nowhere to be seen, though. Still, Fuji didn't consider the change a bad one at all.
The brunet walked languidly to the clubroom, wiping sweat off the back of his neck as he went. The second he stepped inside the cramped space, the scent of sweat and a wave of rowdy conversation assaulted his senses. Fuji wove through the wall of testosterone, carefully heading towards his locker.
He changed into his suit-like school uniform, making sure to knot his tie carefully. Once he looked presentable, the brunet grabbed his bag and walked out.
The sweet, crisp breeze brushed against Fuji's face again, and his smile widened slightly. "There's a good wind today," he said to himself quietly.
On his way into the main building, he met up with Tezuka, and the two seniors went up to their first class together: AP History.
Fuji wasn't feeling in the mood for silence that day, and so he decided to strike up a conversation with his friend. "Has the match order for tomorrow been decided on yet?" he asked innocently.
The stoic captain shook his head before offering a reply. "We have an idea, but Ryoga-sensei and I are meeting after school to finalize everything."
The genius nodded thoughtfully. Though his team was skilled and experienced enough to tear though the first few rounds of the tournament, all of their competition had been improving along with them. By the time they hit the Kanto Tournament, the Regulars would usually start running into create a fitting lineup for their first opponent, Josei Shonan, it would be best to think things through slowly and study Seishun's previous matches with them. Josei was a tricky opponent, and not to be underestimated. We can handle them, though.
He leaned back in his seat, thinking of the upcoming match. Hopefully it would all go smoothly and they would advance to the quarterfinals without difficulty. In all honesty, there was no reason to think that things would turn out otherwise. Even with only seven of their eight Regulars present, they would be fine.
He sat up again and began to feign interest as their teacher stepped into the room. It was Fuji's custom to leave one ear open during class and pick up the important points, but give most of his attention to daydreams. He was at the top of his class like this, so he saw no need to change his ways.
The first few periods passed in such a way, as they always did. Soon, he found himself leaving his last morning class, headed for lunch.
At his locker, though, something held him up. That something took the form of a small redhead from his music class. The petite girl was standing with her hands clasped behind her back and her head down. He could see a faint pink blush on her cheeks, and her feet were shuffling nervously. It was, unfortunately, a posture that he recognized.
"Is there something I can help you with, Honoka-san?" Fuji knew what she wanted to say, and he knew his response, but that wasn't an excuse for being rude.
"Well, Fuji-san…" began the girl slowly, "You see, the truth is, I've like you for a while now and was wondering if you'd like to go to the movies this weekend."
The brunet felt bad – it had obviously taken Honoka quite a bit of nerve to come out with this – but there was no way he could ever accept. A face with a taunting smirk, glinting cat-eyes, and shining green hair flashed through his mind. His passive smile turned bittersweet.
"I wish I could tell you otherwise, but there's someone else I'm involved with. You're very brave and sweet, though, and I'm flattered by your feelings. I wish you the best of luck in finding someone better than myself, Honoka-san," he replied, doing his best to reconcile her without seeming patronizing.
"Oh… o-okay… I understand, then. Good luck with her," said the little carrot-top with wide, sad eyes and a shaky smile. "Thanks for listening," she managed to blurt out before turning on her heel and bolting.
Fuji sighed and turned in the opposite direction, shutting his locker as he did so. He could already feel Honoka's friends glaring daggers into his back. It's not like I could've done anything else, he thought as he headed towards the cafeteria. The sound of several hundred teenagers talking and eating could be already heard, and he could smell the food from here.
When Fuji finally reached the spacious room, it was already packed with students. He scanned over the sea of noise, looking for the loudest spots. His teammates would, without fail, be at the epicenter of one such place.
The tennis club was always easy to find, thanks to its members' nature. Today, for instance, he could hear a particularly obscene shouting match taking place between their two juniors. He drifted through the crowded lunchroom towards the source of the shouting and cursing. Without a doubt, the team would be there.
What he wasn't expecting was to have to stop short of the table. Yes, his friends were sitting there, and yes, Momo and Kaidoh were arguing, but once again, a redhead was in his way. Kikumaru was sprawled on the ground in front of the seat he was intending to take, out cold. Judging by the bluish color to the teen's face and the odd liquid splattered on the ground, Fuji guessed that Inui was the cause.
He laughed quietly and grabbed his friend under the arms, picking him up and dragging him onto the bench. A concerned looking Oishi accepted the unconscious teen with a relieved "thanks."
"So, what invoked Inui's wrath this time?" he inquired jokingly. While Oishi started to explain, (something about Kikumaru doubting his data and then proceeding to irritate him with his destructive antics) Fuji started digging in to his bento. He found that the cafeteria food here wasn't suited to his… specific tastes.
A few minutes later, Kikumaru woke up again, in desperate need of water, and Tezuka returned from speaking to one of his teachers. His arrival brought order to the table, and Fuji was able to eat in peace. Even if the quiet is fear-induced, he thought happily.
The rest of their lunch passed uneventfully, and towards the end, Fuji found time to simply relax and chat.
"But man, did you see him?" yelled Momo with a rowdy laugh. "The kid was killing it out there! At this rate, the title's his!"
Oishi smiled as Kikumaru jumped on him, voicing his agreement. "That's right, nya! Ochibi was so awesome in the preliminaries!"
"It's certainly true that he's struggled more with matches during his time in Japan," commented Inui, "But those were only the preliminaries, and his muscles atrophied during his time in the hospital. There are still quite a few rounds left in the tournament." The data-tennis player snapped his book shut summarily.
"The last few rounds will certainly be interesting," remarked the brunet. "To see some of the best players in the world struggle against a teenager…" He laughed softly at the mental image, hand on his chin.
"Let's all cheer him on and hope for the best," said Oishi with a smile.
"And hope the brat doesn't traumatize anyone," sniggered Momo. A few of the teens around the table found this amusing, mainly because it was true.
Amidst the happy chatter and laughs, a shrill ringing sound filled the cafeteria. In well-practiced motions, the student body of Seishun rose from their seats and grabbed their things, not pausing in their conversations for a second. The loud mass of teenagers streamed out of the room and began making their way towards their next class. Fuji was no exception, and he found himself simply moving with the flow on his way to English in no time.
When he stepped into class, his only period of the day without any of his teammates in it, the brunet settled down quietly in his seat by the window. The lecture eventually started, and Fuji dimly realized that it wasn't anything he really needed to pay attention to. That realization was all it took for him to go on autopilot. While he absentmindedly wrote down a few notes, he let his thoughts wander down whatever path they wanted.
For the next three hours, Fuji moved through his classes by rote. He didn't really dislike school, per se; he just found it a bit monotonous. Going through almost the exact same thing every day was bound to make one think that.
After the final bell rang, the brunet took his time packing up. He drifted from the classroom to his locker with a lazy ease that he usually couldn't afford, thanks to afternoon practice. I can finally have some time to myself this afternoon, too…
He grabbed his bag and, throwing it over one shoulder, walked languidly down to the school's exit. On his way out, the brunet ran into Kikumaru and Oishi, who apparently had shared his sentiments on taking their time while leaving. The three friends walked back to their dorm together, and Fuji took full advantage of the extra time to snap some pictures along the way.
"Ne, ne, Fujiko!" yelled Kikumaru, latching onto his friend. "Did Tezuka tell you the match order for tomorrow, nya?"
The slim teen stumbled slightly before steadying himself and continuing to walk with an indulgent smile. "No, not yet. He and Ryoga-kun are probably discussing it now, though. They want a solid lineup to face a tricky opponent like Josei Shonan. We'll probably hear it tomorrow."
"Mou, but I want to know now!" pouted the redhead. "Ne, Oishi! Do you think we'll be facing that weird pair again?"
"Maybe," replied the vice-captain placidly. "We played the twins two years ago, though, so there's a chance that'll happen again."
"Hm… I hope so; last year I heard they were getting really close to Synchro! They've probably got it by now." With that, the acrobat jumped down from his perch and over to his boyfriend, joining their hands in one fluid motion.
"Ah, we're here," observed Fuji. The large building that was their home had come before them, looking as grand and welcoming as ever. The three stepped inside and kicked off their shoes, and were immediately drawn to the sound of yelling, taunting, and playful bickering coming from the foyer.
Predictably, their roommates had decided to host an impromptu gaming tournament in their newfound spare time. As Kikumaru let out a surprised yell of delight and jumped right into the fray, Fuji realized he wouldn't be able to find any peace were he to stay here.
He slipped away from the crowd and quietly made his way upstairs. It was with a relieved sigh that he shut the door to Tezuka's Quiet Room. The soft click brought with it a cozy wave of silence, and Fuji was able to relax in the room's soothing warmth. He walked over to one of the bookshelves, selecting a novel that he had dog-eared some time ago, intending finish the story eventually. And now's the perfect time, he thought, settling down in an armchair that lay in a warm pool of sunlight.
The brunet's eyes opened to half-mast as he read a particularly thrilling part of the story, though his cheery little smile remained in place.
Fuji continued to read, lazily flicking through page after page. It was only after the book had come to a bittersweet end and the sun had begun to dye his hair red with its rays that he placed it on the table next to him. It had been a good story, a captivating tale about the human psyche, the blurry line of right versus wrong, and love. The last theme, which wouldn't have concerned him beyond mild curiosity at this time last year, was holding his attention surprisingly well at the moment.
Yes, although it seemed strange, Fuji had discovered that the center of his attention was currently Ryoma. To think that all these years, he had believed authors to be exaggerating when they wrote of lovesick characters who couldn't draw their thoughts away from their significant other.
If anything though, they hadn't exaggerated enough. Maybe it was just because the boy was injured and thousands of miles away, but Fuji couldn't keep himself from thinking of, or more commonly worrying for, the tennis star.
But it can't be helped. The only thing I can do is to believe that he's strong enough and hope he comes home soon… How irritating. Laughing quietly at his foolish thoughts, the genius rose and went to place the book back on its shelf. Judging by the light and the fact that they had a long day ahead of them, he guessed that they would be having dinner soon.
He guessed correctly. When he came down into the foyer, he saw only Momo and Kaidoh (the hopeless ones in all things culinary) still going at it. On the other hand, a clatter and delicious smell was drifting in from the kitchen, signaling that Kikumaru was at work.
Without disturbing the two juniors, Fuji headed that way. In the kitchen, the tantalizing smell of noodles and stir-fry permeated the air. Their team's resident chef stood by the stove, chatting with Oishi while he moved a wok around vigorously, letting a mass of ingredients fly up into the air.
The small brunet automatically began to bring out bowls, plates, and chopsticks for that night's meal. Once everything had been laid out neatly to make plating easier on Kikumaru, he sat down next to Oishi with a glass of water and a roll of wasabi sushi. He plopped the latter into his mouth, savoring the pleasant tingle that was a searing burn to everyone else.
Within minutes, Kikumaru had dished out portions of chicken and vegetables onto everyone's plate, with a generous heap of noodles in the bowls usually used for rice. The redhead called all the house's inhabitants to the table, and with a mockingly stern warning to "eat up all the noodles, 'cause you need the carbs for tomorrow," the dysfunctional little family dug in.
At one point during the noise that was dinnertime in dorm T-V-01, Fuji heard Momo asking Tezuka about the match order.
"Is it all set?" inquired the trickster through a mouthful of food.
"Aa. It'll be announced by Ryoga-san before registration tomorrow."
Fuji smiled, excited to find out who he would get to play. He had been a reserve player once this year already, so he would definitely be included in tomorrow's lineup. Josei Shonan was a consistently interesting opponent, what with the unorthodox coaching that carried over even into their high school.
By the time most of the plates had been cleared, Fuji was beginning to feel the fatigue of the day nagging at him. Knowing that he still needed to take a shower and prepare for tomorrow, the brunet excused himself.
Twenty minutes later, he turned off the soothing flow of hot water and stepped out into the steamy bathroom. After toweling off quickly and slipping into his pajamas, Fuji brushed his teeth and went back into the bedroom. The spacious, comfortable room seemed to glow slightly in the moonlight, and as his eyes fell on the large, untouched bed in the corner, a wave of eerie loneliness swept over him. This room truly wasn't the same without its original inhabitant.
Feeling oddly and uncharacteristically gloomy, the teenager decided to try something a bit... unusual. Grabbing his phone and his favorite pillow, he padded across the floor to his absent roommate's bed. The brunet knelt down and slid under the midnight blue covers and silvery sheets. Predictably, they smelled like Ryoma. He wondered how the boy was doing. Ever since his departure, Fuji had only seen his matches and small clips of him from the few public events that he chose to attend, and it wasn't enough. He wanted his Ryo-chan back, and he didn't want to wait.
With a quiet, grumpy huff, he buried his face in the soft pillows below him. Just as he was about to close his eyes and make an attempt at sleeping, though, a buzzing accompanied by a bright light came from beside him. Picking up the disturbance's source, his phone, he smiled at what he saw.
You'd better win.
-ER
Well, maybe he could wait a little longer.
Despite my various issues with writing this chapter (and I ran into every one in the book, mind you) I'm back. Thank freaking god. The update day has been moved to today, too, for the sake of Self's convenience and my own.
Oh, and guess what? I am now the proud, vicious, and clinically insane beta to SwallowTailSoul4evr and her new story, Whispers of the Past, in the KHR fandom. Check it out, will ya?
Oh yeah, and it was Fuji's EXTREMELY rare birthday a few weeks ago, on 2/29/12. Congrats, dude, you're four.