Tokens

written by: lusciniaecantus

Tezuka/Fuji

A/N: This won't be so much a chaptered series as a collection of one-shots that can be read individually or as a whole. The purpose is to document Tezuka and Fuji's relationship with small tokens that they give each other. Other friendship relationships may also be explored. And this will most likely not follow a linear timeline.

Secondly, thanks to reviewers for my first one-shot! I really appreciate the feedback. Enjoy!

It was a bittersweet day as the former regulars of the Seigaku Tennis Club gathered at the International Airport in Tokyo. The vivid sunshine washing the floors and rooms with light reflected suspiciously brightly on the eyes of some present, although they tried furiously to hide it. Inui, the former Golden Pair, Momoshiro, Takashi, Kaidoh and the team brat were all present along with Ryuzaki to see two of their own off into the world beyond.

Tezuka had captured the attention of renowned universities not only in Japan, but in Europe and America as well and he'd decided at last on a prestigious tennis school located in Western Germany. No one on his team doubted that he'd become a pro; tennis was Tezuka's life, his one true passion. Meanwhile, the resident tensai, Fuji Shuusuke had surprised everyone when he announced, with complete nonchalance, that he'd be leaving for Australia to study nature photography. All of the other seniors had opted to stay in Japan to continue their studies, but the loss of the two most brilliant minds within their circle was a blow that none of them were truly prepared for. One perhaps, but not two, though looking back, they really shouldn't have been all that surprised. Neither Tezuka nor Fuji were people who'd be content staying confined to one place where their immense potentials could not be fulfilled.

Oishi, ever playing the maternal role, had made sure Tezuka left him his contact information in Germany and Fuji had cheerfully given his up when Eiji asked. Oishi fully planned to keep up contact within the old team, even if it took some not-so-subtle threats of Inui's fearful vegetable juice to get some of the more stubborn ones to comply. Yet, for the two seemingly most contradictory, and at the same time most compatible, members, it was doubtful if their paths would ever cross again as they headed off to opposite ends of the world to chase their own dreams and ambitions.

Tezuka was never one to hold on to sentimentality, always looking and striving towards the future. The older half of the Golden Pair did not believe for an instant that Tezuka would chase after old memories. Fuji had always reminded Oishi of the sea—the deceptively calm exterior belying an infinitely deep mind, and like the sea, ever-changing even as he always remained the same. It was impossible to truly grasp Fuji, only to look on as he continually shifted and slipped away like the water. Which was exactly why Tezuka would never try. Their buchou did not believe in pursuing lost causes.

--

"We'll miss you, Tezuka," Takashi told his old captain sincerely as the group stood just outside the Tezuka's boarding gate. Takashi had, as he'd promised, stopped tennis in high school and devoted all his energy into sushi-making, but he was still the same quiet boy Tezuka knew in the Seigaku Tennis Club.

"As will I," the stoic boy responded, taking in the faces of his teammates, and the closest friends he'd ever had.

"Don't forget us, nya!" Eiji teased with a wink. High school had not changed the energetic youth at all, and his Japanese Lit. teachers were always driven to exasperation with his nonsensical addendums to classic literature readings.

"See you at the Wimbledon, buchou." Ryoma's typical cocksure remark incited a laugh. Tezuka regarded the young tennis genius seriously for a moment and then inclined his head ever so slightly. The message was clear. Make it there and I will be waiting.

"Take care of yourself, Tezuka."

Tezuka's gaze shifted to the vice-captain that had been with him since the very first day. "Aa," he replied. "You too, minna. Don't let your guards down."

Another collective chuckle. "Some things never change," Inui remarked, his lips curling in an amused smile. The others voiced their agreements.

"Attention all passengers on Flight 867 leaving for Berlin, Germany at 1:30pm, your plane is beginning to board. Please head to the boarding gate immediately."

They all looked up to where the intercom had just announced Tezuka's flight.

"Well, that's my flight." Tezuka hoisted his bag more firmly onto his shoulders and began to turn away when Fuji stepped up and laid his hand gently on the other boy's elbow, making him stopped and look at the fair-haired boy expectantly.

"Saaa, Tezuka, this is for you." A plain, light blue box tied with a single gold string was presented to him, the familiar smile just as cheerful as ever on Fuji's delicate face. He accepted the present gracefully.

"Arigatou."

The smile widened infinitesimally. "Ne, just don't open it until you're on the airplane ok?"

"Aa," he nodded, long used to Fuji's little eccentricies. Indeed, he would've been truly surprised if the honey-haired boy hadn't made some kind of random odd request to go along with his final farewell token. "I won't."

Fuji hummed his satisfaction and stepped back beside his own luggage. The others moved around him to wish their buchou a final good-bye and good luck before Tezuka turned again to board. "Sayonara, minna."

A chorus of "Sayonara buchou" sounded back, except the blue-eyed prodigy's lips never moved and, as Tezuka looked out of the corner of his eyes, the closed-mouth smile on Fuji's blurry face never wavered once. With one final nod, the former captain of Seigaku headed off into the terminal.

--

"Ne, Fuji, your plane leaves soon too," Eiji reminded his best friend as Tezuka disappeared from sight. "Shouldn't you get going too?"

"Mm, you're right Eiji." But the fair-haired boy made no move to follow through on Eiji's advice.

"Fuji?"

The prodigy turned his head towards Oishi at the other's inquisitive voice. "It's ok if you guys leave now," he said. "I'll be fine. My boarding gate is down the hall."

Eiji jumped in again, his face scrunched up. "But Fujiii!"

"Ne, Eiji, didn't you say you didn't want to miss the special Jellybeans' live performance on TV today?"

The bouncing redhead froze, suddenly remembering the show that he'd been so excited about for the past month. "Nyaa, you're right!" Eiji glanced at Fuji, a torn look on his face. There was an awkward silence as he debated over his best friend and his idols.

A chuckle escaped Fuji's lips as he saw his hyperactive friend freeze. "Don't worry about it, Eiji. I can make it down the hall by myself." He turned to the others, his closed eyes somehow giving the impression that he was taking them all in nonetheless. "You too, minna. I'll just go board the plane."

"But…"

Seeing the way Eiji was still uncertain, Fuji offered a compromise and a way out. "I'll call you as soon as I reach Sydney, ok Eiji?"

The redhead bit his lip lightly as he considered this, his eyes still hesitant. "Promise?"

"Hai. I promise," Fuji assured him soothingly. "Now go, I wouldn't want you to miss your show for me."

Oishi looked from the smiling prodigy to his doubles partner who had started bouncing again from nervousness. "Well, if you're sure…"

"I'm sure."

The older teen sighed. There was no arguing with Fuji. "Very well. Take care of yourself, Fuji."

"Mm, arigtaou. I will."

"Alright, let's go everyone!"

The rest of the team nodded, and they each gave Fuji a final handshake or pat and said their goodbyes. He smiled at each of them, nodding his thanks and murmured a goodbye. Then, they reluctantly parted and started heading towards the exit.

Fuji stood there waving at them, his figure silhouetted against the afternoon sun shining brightly through the large glass windows, only the tip of his smile visible. Only when the team disappeared past the security doors did he let his hand fall to his side, the faintest crease appearing between his brows as his smile faded for this first time since that morning and he turned his head to look back out the window at the planes resting outside. Overhead, he heard his own boarding call. ("Attention all passengers on Flight 342 leaving for Sydney, Australia at 2pm, your plane is now beginning to board. Please head to the gate immediately.")

--

Tezuka let out a small sigh as he took his seat near the window on the airplane. He was one of the first to board and therefore, had stored his carry-on luggage in the overhead compartment without any problems. As he sat there waiting for the takeoff, his gaze rested on the present box sitting on his lap. Fuji hadn't reacted when he broke the news to the team that he was accepting the tennis scholarship in Germany and he had only later found out that the other boy was also leaving Japan to study in Australia. And then today, he had presented Tezuka with this and asked that he not open it until he was on the plane. Well, he was on the plane now. Telling himself that he wasn't particularly curious or anything (he merely didn't want Fuji's surprise to come when the airplane was filled) Tezuka slowly undid the bow and lifted the lid.

The first thing he noted was that, whatever it was, it was very colourful speckled with bright shades of red, blue, yellow, orange, purple, and green. The next thing he noticed was that it wasn't one thing; it was a whole bunch of somethings. Staring down at Fuji's final farewell to him, Tezuka felt an odd twinge in his chest. The box was filled with little paper cranes of different sizes and colours, their carefully crafted perfection speaking of hours of precise, meticulous work. The cranes resembled their maker to the core, with their aura of subtle elegance, unaffected beauty and a certain intangible lure that had drawn people for millennia.

Then Tezuka saw the small, white envelope tucked into the side, almost covered over by the multitude of folded paper cranes. He gently nudged the cranes aside and pulled out the envelope. A neat, flowing Tezuka was scrawled across the front. Slowly, almost reverently, he withdrew the piece of paper inside the envelope and unfolded it. Four words were written on it in the same familiar script that Tezuka had often seen in the photo albums documenting Seigaku Tennis Club's achievements.

We will meet again.

The teen's eyes drifted back to the content of the box on his lap. The cranes lay in the box, slightly askew from the earlier jostling of their container, and Tezuka was inexplicably reminded of a deceptively innocent face with an equally deceptively sweet smile. He was certain that were he to count them, he'd find that there would be exactly one thousand of the colourful birds. And in his hand, he held the four words that Fuji had sent with them. Not a wish, but a promise. A promise for the future, for a bond that was not yet broken; a promise for them.

On a whim, Tezuka turned his head to look at the window of the building where he'd come from. The sun's reflection prevented him from seeing any of the inside, but he fancied that he could just make out the shadow of a shorter boy behind the glass. That wasn't possible, he knew, since Fuji had most likely already boarded his plane and settling in for his journey to Australia, but for a moment, Tezuka could have sworn he saw the shadow on the floor, the eternal, familiar smile and a flash of pure blue so deep that it was perilous to look right into them lest one should drown.

--

There are so many words left unspoken. I will hold them all within me; I won't say goodbye. And the next we meet, I will tell you everything. I will give you my heart, face to face, when the time comes. Until then, good luck and take care.

See you later, Tezuka.

We will meet again.

Because no relationship can be truly considered thus until it has endured the test of time and distance.

Comments and concrit are always much appreciated!