Chapter 3 – Lies

Lies: A lie is a statement made to someone else with the intention to deceive. To lie is to say something one believes to be false with the intention that it be taken with the truth by someone else. A liar is a person who is lying or has a tendency to tell lies.

Tezuka was not weak.

He realized that the true reason why he had taken Fuji's bargain was not because of Echizen. He accepted Fuji's deal because he wanted to enter Fuji's game, or, in other words, he wanted Fuji to be lost in his own mind game. His motives may seem rather shallow, but he knew they weren't. He had put himself in Fuji's display and he was almost sure it was working. Until that evening when all of his wishes fell to the ground.

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"Fuji-san, have you thought about your future?" The man asked politely.

"I haven't made a choice yet."

"Of course there are plenty of things you're good at. A talent is something you are good at and have the potential to become great. I know is still soon for this future talk but as a teacher I'd like to know. So, Fuji-san, what do you think you possess that can achieve greatness?"

Lies, he thought secretly to himself, I am a liar and being able to lie is an extraordinary gift.

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Fuji doesn't remember when that manipulative side of his personality was born. He just knows that little façade took over his entire aspirations and projects. He needs to feel that power over someone to feel he's worth, to feel he deserves to move, talk and breath. He necessitates it so desperately he can't be separated from it. Because from all possible personalities and mentalities he could have chosen, from the good guy, from the shy one, from the tough and from the bright boy, he chose to be the one who can change others with merely his tepid words. He chose to be the one that persuades. He chose to be the one who runs.

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Those days felt like the interminable prisoner's penal days for Tezuka. No mattered what he did, preferred, desired, wished, thought or even sighed Fuji was there, like an elder ghost who never left his side. Although he was still the captain of his team for everyone to see and show around, Tezuka didn't consider himself the leader of anything anymore. Tezuka adored routine, his routine, where everything was planned and scheduled precisely by him and followed extremely accurately as his life depended upon it. This kind of routine, Fuji's arranged routine, however, was suffocating. He could feel his life running away from his hands and his future turning into a blurred fog. Everything was lost and he was condemned to the mental exhaustion day after day, after day, after day. Again and again.

Fuji looked as calm and contained as ever, in school, in practice, everywhere, except where Fuji could be what Fuji really was. Where Tezuka knew that every drop of sweat running down Fuji's neck was real and, almost, true. At least, the truest of what Tezuka knew of Fuji.

"Your backhand is uncontrolled, Echizen." Tezuka said.

"Hai, buchou."

"Fuji, get on the court."

The tensai turned his head in his captain's direction and nodded. So finally he was going to do it. Use tennis to regain himself.

"Want to bet anything if you win, buchou?" The last word was pronounced provocatively, almost as if it was an insult and not an honorific.

"Which?" retorted he simply.

"Rough."

Tezuka whirled his racket "Smooth. I serve."

Fuji was the genius and Tezuka was the captain. It was written that the match would be a long one. A match people could watch eternally.

Tezuka wasn't aware of what in earth had possessed him to plan that game, he knew, nevertheless, that he was fighting for something much bigger than him and his selfish will. Fuji, on the other hand, wasn't playing for anything; he didn't possess any special reasons to win against Tezuka or even try to do so. He hit back every one of Tezuka's tries to walk off the court victorious, not because he wanted the glory of winning against the captain, not because he was in the mood of wore himself completely out receiving every smash and certainly not because he was afraid of Tezuka's triumph. Fuji didn't quite discern why he was playing that match with that odd amount of effort, he just knew that it was almost automatic and he hit back Tezuka's volley again.

They played for what it looked like hours, never decreasing the rhythm of their play. Their bodies covered in sweat and their breaths almost forgotten while they ran after each other inside that small court as predators.

They would have reached the tie break if Ryuuzaki sensei hadn't entered the court hysterically saying the club was over long ago and they were just being idiots by playing such a strenuous and endless game before the Rankings. They obeyed her silently, without any protest or remark, and that game was resolved without any accurate winner or loser.

Tezuka left the court first, hand on his elbow, heading as quickly as a fox to the showers. Fuji stayed there a little more, beyond Ryuuzaki-sensei's yells of impatience, looking at the sky and thinking what sort of feeling was that one he was breathing now. Then he sighed and abandoned the court too.

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Practice ran as usually the following days, the result of the game hidden behind Tezuka's stern face and Fuji's mirth. Fuji was amused by Tezuka's lack of luck in whatever he was aiming for. Tezuka was going to crumble sooner or later and Fuji's theory would be proved. He didn't blame Tezuka for not having the tact and the strong character everyone thought of. People are born weak or strong, is not something you can grew or culture and Fuji's insight told him Tezuka was already reaching his large limit. After all, he was in the weak side.

Fuji was late that day. He walked harshly to the lockers room and, after changing into his uniform, to the courts. The practice had started about 10 minutes ago, thus running tiresome laps was his fate.

"Tezuka isn't weak Fuji." The bespectacled boy appeared quietly after Fuji terming his warm up. He would wonder how Inui knew it if he wasn't familiar with his awesome data base. He decided not to answer and simply gave him one of his habitual half smiles. Then he started walking towards the courts again.

"You think you are in control but you'll find out, some things are not quite that simple."

Fuji stopped ambling and glared at his teammate.

"What are you trying to say, Inui?" he inquired, not showing the curiosity overflowing him.

"Some lies are in fact the truth. The only thing that keeps them as lies are the liar's beliefs."

Fuji giggled.

"And with that you're insinuating what?"

"You'll reach the answer eventually." Inui stated looking at his notebook. "Anyway, you acknowledge your game with Tezuka will probably cost us the Kantou Tournament, don't you? Was that your main point?"

Fuji continued gazing at Inui impatiently and with confusion written all over his face.

"His elbow's treatment was stupidly spoiled by his thoughtless whim and your pushy game the other day. Knowing you won't feel any guilty after this piece of information I don't really understand why I am telling you this." Said he a matter-of-factly and suddenly disappeared behind his glasses leaving Fuji brooding.

What was this entire elbow story? Was Tezuka injured? He had never heard about that or had even glanced a sign of it in his captain's play. Tezuka still looked like the old plain Tezuka while they were rallying on that green rectangle the other day; he was performing each one of his usual techniques and tricks with his well-known ease. Was Tezuka hiding his pain? Was Tezuka lying? And in that minute Fuji couldn't see or understand anything clearly anymore because everything he had done, analyzed and predicted was transforming into a mist where he was unable to tell distinctively what was going to happen. That foreign feeling of uneasiness and failure taking control of his body, making his breathing irregular and his mind wandering paranoid.

Tezuka did actually make it; he had managed to deceive Fuji. Because Fuji was too blind and got lost in his own plan which was unfolding perfectly. He never looked twice at Tezuka's reasons or concealed notices. Tezuka's tennis career could be over by now and the only guilty person was him. And for the second time in his short life, Fuji was actually worried over someone else. Why or what he couldn't tell. The only thing he knew was that in making Tezuka's life miserable was not implied taking away his tennis. That wouldn't attest his vision of weakness.

He searched franticly for Tezuka's imposing shape in the courts as he had never done before. He needed to see him, to feel his presence, to know everything was right.

At that moment, Inui's words made all the sense in the world.

Fuji Shusuke had fallen prey of his own trap.