Arithion (arithion) wrote,

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and more Smile... hehe

Title: Smile: Catch Me
Author: Arithion
Disclaimer: If they were mine, the series wouldn’t just be implied shonen-ai in certain bits… trust me... not mine
Rating: PG
Genre: Angstish, bit of drama… um… yeah
Pairing: TezxFuji … finally… wonder how many people read this little bit
Chapter: Seventeen
Summary: What’s behind a smile…?
Warning: If you don’t like shonen-ai.. don’t read this chapter… and if you don’t you probably shouldn’t even have read it this far. Um lost of angst in this one, but I think I make it all better mwuah hah hah… happy reading!

Catch Me

He had no destination in mind, no thoughts of what he was doing. There was no space left in his head for those types of thoughts. All he could think of was the match that day, of the look on Mizuki’s face, and of the words Yuuta had just spoken.

“You were cruel, downright cruel.”

Mizuki’s face had been crushed, defeated, completely and utterly. It was what Fuji had set out to do; to humiliate, to give back some of the equilibrium that should never have been taken away. The other boy played dirty, and it was something Fuji couldn’t abide. He’d just wanted to show the other boy that Fuji didn’t appreciate his brother’s future, or anyone else’s, being screwed with.

Hadn’t he done just that? Hadn’t he let his opponent taste some of his own medicine? Had he really been cruel? Was he cruel?

Fuji shook his head, releasing the raindrops weighting his hair down, making the way free for more to do just that. Shoving hands into soppy pockets he made his way down the street, head down and shoulders hunched. No one he knew would recognise him if they saw him, well, almost no one. And right then, that was what Fuji needed.

Time with his own thoughts, his own conscience, and his own guilt. Guilt was a feeling that he seldom gave into, but right then… it was overwhelming him. Just like the rain was soaking him, and cooling him to the bone, guilt seeped in everywhere, until he couldn’t quite think straight.

His foot hit a curb, and he raised his eyes for a moment, blinking. He smiled sadly, and walked the rest of the way into the playground he and Yuuta had frequented as children. It was a peaceful one, and he stood, watching the rain beat down on the swings, and the jungle-jims. His heart constricted, remembering that time… when they’d both been too young to let sibling-rivalry affect them.

Yuuta was a sore loser, he always had been. He strove to be the best and to win, and he was good. Fuji wished, more often than not, that his brother had been gifted with what Fuji had. Because despite his sibling’s constant effort and dedication, he’d never been able to achieve quite the level that Fuji did…and Fuji didn’t even try.

At the same time, Fuji wouldn’t wish that on Yuuta, simply because the older brother felt it more a curse than a benefit. How many times did Fuji get praised when he brought home good grades? Rarely, very rarely. It was expected of him, and nothing he did ever seemed to be able to impress his father. Yuuta on the other hand was praised, and partly because the boy had to work at everything that he gained. In a way Fuji envied his brother, and at the same time wanted to protect him from anything that could hurt him. Which brought his train of thoughts full circle once more.

“You were cruel, downright cruel.”

Fuji shivered, bringing arms up to clutch around himself. The rain was cold, cooling as night fell fully. It was dark and lonely, just the way he felt right then. His thoughts darted from one thing to another, but never leaving the topic of the moment. Leaning against a table, Fuji closed his eyes briefly, just letting the water wash over him… wash him away.

Cerulean eyes opened, taking in the playground once more. Visions of the past danced around in front of him, while the cold seeped into his bones. Idly, he realised that he’d forgotten to put his proper shoes on, and that his house shoes were soaked, and a little worse for wear. He would have laughed had he had the energy. The cold leached into his bones from his feet up, through his blood stream, working through his entire body. He felt numb, and he welcomed it.

Damn Tezuka, for making him feel. Right then, he wanted to damn Tezuka for a lot of things.

“You were cruel, downright cruel.”

He could feel those words, coming from his brother, each syllable like a knife. It hurt, more than he’d thought he could be hurt; more than he thought he was capable of being hurt. So many years of building up those walls, and such a short time of letting just one person in, and he was weak again… he was crumbling.

Fuji pushed himself away from the bench, placing one soggy foot in front of the other, concentrating on the ground; arms huddled around him, and began to walk away from the playground. It felt good not to feel, and he almost laughed at the inconsistency in his own mind.

It sunk into him, the numbness, the ability to just forget how to feel, to escape in that floating abyss of nothingness. So soothing, and yet at the same time so lonely that it hurt. He didn’t understand how it could hurt him through those layers with no sensation. It was like he was being frozen inside, and he realised that it was still cold, and still numb, but it seemed to be eating at him.

Syusuke didn’t think he liked it after all.

“You were cruel, downright cruel.”

That thought played over and over in his head, not letting his mind rest for even an instant as he walked through the streets. Fuji had only vague recollections of weaving around the streets, welcoming the rain, ignoring passing cars that gave him strange looks. He didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to face that accusing glare of his brother’s. Tired as he was, he continued walking.

The physical and emotional toll of the day was almost painful. That match had taken more out of him than he liked to think, a hell of a lot more. He’d needed control to not give in and simply make the other boy lose in six straight games. Maybe Yuuta was right. Maybe he was cruel, really, truly cruel.

That thought ached, like a punch to the gut, and it was all he could to keep himself from doubling over right then and right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Instead, he clenched his teeth and kept walking, just needing that movement, because he feared that without it he might freeze in place and never be able to move again.

The surroundings suddenly felt familiar, and he felt himself relaxing despite the cold. He looked up, surprise on his face when he realised that the next gate down belonged to Tezuka. The surprise turned into a frown. He hadn’t wanted to come here, had he?

Stopping in front of the gate, he clutched his arms tightly around his chest, as if trying to squeeze some feeling back into his limbs. His mind felt strange, so many thoughts flitting through it as he looked up at Tezuka’s bedroom window. His eyes focused on it, as if he could bore a hole through the glass just by looking at it.

He failed to see the curtain’s movement, so lost was he in his thoughts.

“You were cruel, downright cruel.”

Was that the way everyone saw him? Was that the way Tezuka saw him? Fuji remembered the look on Tezuka’s face when he’d been playing. It wasn’t quite disappointment, but it wasn’t far from it. The prodigy tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter that someone was disappointed in him, because it so rarely happened. But it did cut, hurt, burned just the same… no matter how hard he tried.

He thought he heard his name called, telling him to get out of the rain, but it seemed so distant that he dismissed it. Moving his arms from the grip they had around his own body, he held his hands out in front of him. Head cocked to one side, he looked at them, almost not seeing them. It was dark, and only the light from the streetlamp behind him could give him any illumination.

His fingers looked blue. He knew that his skin was usually pale, but it looked almost transparent, and he had to suppress a shiver as the wind blew through his damp clothing, touching the skin that he’d been holding warm until a minute ago. It was blurry, everything was blurry. The rain dripped into his eyes, but Fuji refused to blink. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up.

Tezuka stood in front of him, a slight frown on his face, hair fast becoming wet from the rain. Fuji frowned a little himself, trying to reason with a brain that seemed far too lethargic for his liking. Why was Tezuka standing in the rain? Come to think of it, why was Fuji standing in the rain?

And it hit him again, the words so close, the sound so real that he could have sworn Yuuta had followed him.

“You were cruel, downright cruel.”

Again, that icy feeling threatened to envelop him, and he fastened cerulean orbs on his friend’s warm brown ones, seeking, needing… wanting to believe the boy in front of him was real, although he was fairly sure he wasn’t. He’d been seeing so much that night, so much that wasn’t real… so much that felt far too tangible.

Streetlight, dimmed by the rain, reflected of Tezuka’s glasses, almost hiding the eyes behind them. But Fuji could see them, could read them and the questions in them. One of his hands brushed briefly against Tezuka, feeling if the other boy was actually there. It couldn’t hurt could it, even if Tezuka wasn’t truly there?

That expression beseeched him, asked him what he was doing there and why he was standing in the rain. That look bore into him, making Fuji want to cry, making Fuji want to let go, but he didn’t dare. The only thing it could do was make him speak…

He didn’t even realise at first that he was speaking, and once he did, he concentrated on those words pouring from him, on that litany. It made him feel alive, because each word caused him pain, just as the echo of those words in his mind did.

“You were cruel, downright cruel.”

“I’m cruel… did you know that? I didn’t realise, but I’ve known it for a long time. I crushed that boy, I made a fool of him… and I liked it. Does that make me a bad person? Does it?” He didn’t leave enough time for Tezuka to speak, but instead ploughed on, studying his fingers once more. “Didn’t think I was like that, ne, Tezuka? Not behind the smile, not behind what you professed to want to see?”

“Fuji…” The voice was soft and yet commanding, asking the prodigy to stop.

He sighed, not hearing Tezuka, refusing to listen when the other boy spoke his name. Instead, he continued again, voice raw with emotional pain. “You thought I was lost, just as I am, but you didn’t realise what you’d find.” His eyes rose to look at Tezuka, defiance and agony a potent mixture in them. His voice lowered to a whisper, barely audible above the fall of rain, containing everything already reflected in his eyes. “Do you hate me the way I hate myself, Tezuka? Do you…”

“Fuji, stop…”

But the prodigy wouldn’t listen, or perhaps he just didn’t hear. He was lost in the self recrimination he felt, in the self loathing for what he’d done, for what he’d enjoyed doing. “You should, you know. I’m not a nice person… I warned you… “ He laughed, a short bitter laugh. “Hate me, Tezuka… damn you… just leave me alone, stop ‘getting’ me.” He finally raised his eyes, pleading, begging, asking. “Just hate me…?”

Rain chilled skin met warm firm hands as Tezuka gripped his arms. The sudden sensation of warmth flooded through Fuji’s senses, making his body tingle. And it took a moment for him to register that Tezuka’s lips were on his own.

He slammed back into himself, mind no longer lost, everything centring on that touch, on that sensation. Soft lips moved against his own, and the feeling made him feel alive despite himself. When Tezuka pulled back to look at him, Fuji groaned softly with the loss of that touch, with the loss of that warmth.

Brown eyes met cerulean, searching for something that they obviously found, as Tezuka’s face softened. “No…”

It was all he said, and all he needed to say, because in the next moment he was kissing Fuji again, and the shorter boy wanted to melt.

Tezuka’s hands moved up to cup his face, and Fuji let his hands drop to the taller boy’s waist. Soft lips brushed his own, before a tongue almost tentatively requested an entrance that Fuji was only to glad to grant.

The kiss was soft and sweet, giving and offering, taking and forgiving, and all Fuji wanted to do was lose himself in the moment. He had no idea how long they stood there, bodies’ flush against one another, hands gripping each other; one in desperation, the other to soothe. All he knew was he forgot the rain, he forgot his turmoil, and let Tezuka breathe the life into him that he’d lost.


There you go… now you can all shut up ^__~ ... /snicker

Feedback appreciated GREATLY

And yeah… going to go and relax before starting on 18

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