If Prince of Tennis were mine, Echizen's hair would spontaneously combust. Like, everyday.
So .. lack of updates, yes I know. I have simply had no inspiration whatsoever over the past .. week or two? Anyway, I'm back with this and I don't know whether I'll feel like writing tomorrow, but we'll see.
DARK
I owe every breath to you;
all you did was save my life - our lady peace
x.lithiumx.lithiumx.lithium;
The moment Fuji's blue eyes widened and met his own eyes in their first year, Tezuka had recognized the lithe boy for exactly what he was; either his greatest rival, or his greatest companion.
When they had been paired together to play doubles against two of their senpais, Tezuka revelled in the wrongness of it. It was wrong in the way he knew what Fuji was thinking, where Fuji was when he shouldn't. Despite both their opponents being Regulars, Tezuka and Fuji won easily. Afterwards, amidst people crowding them with words of Golden Pair! raining down, it was to unlistening ears that Fuji spoke.
Although they were surrounded by people, there wasn't a doubt in Tezuka's mind that only he had heard the words that had Fuji had spoken, "Never again will I play doubles with the likes of you."
Tezuka had not doubted Fuji's words. For if they had been cowards, they would have become doubles partners and not have to struggle to become who they were meant to be.
When it was just the two of them in the clubroom, Tezuka tilted his head upwards, asking, "Who are we to one another?" It was with a numb kind of surprise that the taller boy felt Fuji's slim fingers on his chin, holding Tezuka's chin up and pressing cold pink lips against the pulse in Tezuka's neck.
"Whoever we choose to be; you are the one," Fuji had murmured against the pulse. It was not until the clubroom door swung shut with a quiet hiss that Tezuka released a breath he had not known he'd been holding and slid down to the ground against the lockers, ignoring the way his mind buzzed with a kind of thrill that only Fuji could instill within him.
Sometime in their second year, Fuji had been having problems with Yuuta and Tezuka found the prodigy slamming a tennis ball against the wall long after practice had ended. The ferocity intended in Fuji's racquet did not escape Tezuka's notice, and though the other boy might be a prodigy in tennis, that did not ensure that he would not trip over his own feet.
Watching Fuji fall to the ground was like watching a bird trapped within a house with glass walls, Tezuka decided. When the blue eyed boy hurled his racquet against the wall, breaking it into two with a resounding crack!, Tezuka took strides he was not aware of until he was kneeling over Fuji with his arms around the smaller boy.
"Nothing will touch you because I will protect you. You are most precious to me and I love you more than anyone will ever know." He spent enough hours whispering promises to Fuji while they both crouched over in the rain that he could barely croak a sound the next day, but the wonder in Fuji's blue eyes and the sound of saviour that Fuji said without speaking was more than enough to make up for it.
At the end of their second year and when their closeness had grown to the point wherein Tezuka could tell how Yuuta had reacted by the simple twitch of Fuji's blue eyes, both of them watched the Golden Pair's match against some of the third years.
"That could have been us," had been all that Fuji had said.
Their relationship was no closely guarded secret, but neither was it publicly announced. Therefore, it was the focus of the next month's school gossip when Tezuka yanked Fuji's chin upwards after that comment and kissed him deep enough to make Fuji moan so that Oishi completely missed the tennis ball on his serve.
Yamato-buchou had assigned both of them laps for disturbing practice, but the knowing amusement in their buchou's smile and the warmth in Fuji's own eyes drove any signs of regret far from his conciousness.
When they were, once again, alone in the clubroom and Tezuka was folding his jersey, Fuji spoke, "If we'd played doubles, we would have been rivals, ne Tezuka?" Most things in their relationship went unsaid and some things couldn't be said; this was one of them. How Tezuka knew they would have been enemies if they had become doubles partners, Tezuka didn't know, but it was a fact as sure as sun rising in the morning.
For good measure, Tezuka leant over to brush his lips to the pulse in Fuji's neck before murmuring an affirmative sound. The simplicity in the way Fuji's small hand clutched his wrist send a surge of affection for the prodigy rushing through Tezuka.
Third year brought about many changes that Tezuka could never have prepared himself for.
Echizen was a problem that Tezuka didn't know how to solve. His duty to train the next pillar of Seigaku was one that, as buchou, Tezuka could not ignore. However, the bitterness in Fuji's voice the night after his secret match against the first year sent regret coursing through Tezuka's heart.
Why he had kept his match against Echizen a secret, Tezuka did not know, but he had and this was the price to pay. Fuji's cold, "I had a feeling that you'd play a match against Echizen," and the bitterness with which the prodigy spat the first year's name made Fuji's spite known to Tezuka.
That night, which happened to be their anniversary, was spent in a cold silence. For the first time in a long time, Tezuka wondered why someone else couldn't bear his responsibilities.
When Fuji played against Echizen, Tezuka had seen the smug excitement that glinted in Fuji's eyes as he unleashed the first of the Triple Counters, but ten minutes into the game that excitement faded and it became just another game to Fuji.
Part of Tezuka was glad that only he could rouse the passion from Fuji's deepest hearts, yet part of him was disappointed that Fuji could not fight for him. In the rain afterwards, he confronted the prodigy.
"If I become a burden, remove me from the Regulars." Tezuka did not try to disillusion himself to believe Fuji's words were anything but the break-up that it was, but it hurt nonetheless.
Glancing at the retreating back of the prodigy, Tezuka spoke, "The beat of your heart is the only one mine has ever known." Something like hope flared up in Tezuka as Fuji's footsteps stopped, but then the tensai turned around and the bitterness in Fuji's blue eyes was evident.
"But it isn't, Tezuka. Has your heart not familiarized itself to the bounce of a tennis ball?" Watching Fuji leave was like tearing his heart out, and it was with disgust that Tezuka found himself on the tennis courts once Fuji had left.
Tezuka's departure to Germany was a quick, impersonal affair, and though the team would miss him, Tezuka realized that it could function without him. Closing his eyes to the blueness of the sky that the plane lifted him closer and closer to, Tezuka breathed in, then out.
When Tezuka heard news of Fuji's injury, he had gotten aboard the first plane available back to Japan, unbeknownst to his trainers. By the time he arrived in Japan, it was in the darkest hours of the morning, but he knew better than to believe that Fuji would be asleep.
Sneaking into Fuji's hospital was easy enough, and he quickly picked up the uneven, laboured breathing of the prodigy.
"You came," spoken in Fuji's delicate, frightened voice was invitation enough for Tezuka to climb onto Fuji's hospital bed and wrap the lithe boy in his arms.
"I'll be your light when it is dark. You don't have to be afraid of the dark when I'm here." A whimper escaped Fuji's lips, and the prodigy shuddered against Tezuka's chest. "You are most precious to me and I love you more than you will ever know."
He didn't know how long he whispered the promised words to Fuji, all he knew was it was longer and deeper and he held Fuji tighter than he had the first time he'd whispered those words. He also knew the way Fuji held onto him back and the way Fuji whispered the words back to him.
--
Bleh, fail. Ugh. I just can't get it right.
Lithium;