This was the first fic entry in the 30kisses lj community.
TITLE: Theory Number Ten
AUTHOR: Simply Kim
PAIRING: Atobe Keigo x Tezuka Kunimitsu
FANDOM: Tennis no Oujisama
THEME: #10 (Number 10) and #12 (In a Good Mood)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything except this... (Piece of crap?) fic. ;
NOTE #1: Blah or Blah is for emphasis. /Blah/ is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). /Blah/ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. Blah is for thoughts or random Japanese words. Some of these words are footnoted at the end of every page (I'm beginning to understand the need for footnotes in fiction. Thank you dear friend, you know who you are. XD)
THEORY NUMBER TEN
Waiting was something Tezuka Kunimitsu hated doing.
There was nothing fun at all while searching for a face among the incoming surge of crowd near a main train station of an over-populated city like Tokyo. He didn't believe in staring blindly at people's faces in hopes of finding something really comical about them and laughing about it, or as his best friend Oishi called it - People-watching. After all, how could you even laugh at another person's physical features or sense of fashion when you were sitting like a beetle, looking more like a loser as each minute passes and giggling alone like a psycho, talking to no one in particular?
It was pointless.
He sighed as he looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. This is pointless. He thought crossly, standing up and dusting the seat of his pants. With renewed purpose, he wandered away to where his destination was - the coffee shop in the nearest shopping mall he could find. He would just wait there - at least, he could have a cup of hot java while doing absolutely nothing.
How is he faring, I wonder...?
OxxxOxxxO
Once again, he glanced at the huge wall clock by the door. Atobe was now officially an hour late. He had given him a voice message on his cellular phone and he was expecting him to at least answer. However, thirty minutes already passed and he still hadn't received any.
He took a sip of his second cup of warm coffee. If he took any more cups of the stuff, he would no sooner have a nervous breakdown - or a severe case of tremors. Already, his nerves were thrumming with something akin to adrenaline, and he felt giddy. He put his cup down on its saucer with shaking hands.
It was surprising that he and Atobe had made it this long. Tezuka been expecting a lot of nasty powwows and even nastier screaming fits when they were left alone together, but somehow, everything he, and of course, other people as well, predicted would happen didn't come true. Atobe, for all his faults and all his ego was actually... entertaining. Of course many would digress, but he was entertaining to him, and for Tezuka, that was enough to keep him company.
Their weird relationship started during the Kantou Tournament when his team faced off with Atobe's in the semi-finals...
OxxxOxxxO
It was known that Atobe always had new choreography when it came to his pre-game shows. He fully enjoyed the scene unfolding before him. Atobe's voice was deep and there was a note of seduction in it that made the aftershocks of each word tingle up and down his spine. He could almost imagine the people around him start throwing roses and could almost see Atobe bowing gallantly in response to the adoration.
The funniest thing of all was that he was almost compelled to do the same.
A minuscule smile graced his features; one that he knew would not escape the eyes of those who knew him... especially Inui who was now poised to write on his notebook the moment his game started. After Atobe declared that he was going to be the winner of their match, Tezuka couldn't help voicing his amusement.
"Are you satisfied?" He asked, reaching out for the customary pre-game handshake.
The smile widened considerably as Atobe acknowledged him and grasped his hand tightly, eyes sparkling and an arrogant grin on his face.
"Yes, I'm satisfied."
Tezuka could remember the match being hard, fulfilling, and extremely painful. It was good to be tolerantto that kind of pain, although the initial jolt was so unbearable that he cracked - literally. As his older seiyuu friend put it, if he was a cartoon character, he would turn into stone and then shatter to a million pieces, starting from the focal point of his pain. It was amusing in a way, but reality was more dominant in such situation, so it wouldn't be pretty.
He didn't know what actually possessed him to do what he did. He knew what Atobe was planning when he noticed that his shots were slowing to that of a normal rally. It was meant purely to prolong their game. Atobe could've used his trademark move over and over... he could've hit the ball back harder since he was in a good enough condition to do so.
There was instantaneous fear in him when he fully grasped the situation, and he was torn as to whether to bite or to go along. If he did, he would've lost a lot sooner, if he went along... well, what happened was quite inevitable.
He endured it, his muscles cording painfully as Atobe caught up to his score. Just one shot... just one shot and no sympathetic spirit helped me make it... He winced. It hurt.
The thought that he was going to die consumed his mind as overtime started. The pain was excruciating and he couldn't understand why he was being so stubborn when there was still Echizen to play for his team. He had full confidence that the freshman regular was beyond defeat from people like the non-regulars of the opposing team. He got through Akutsu Jin who was a Yamabuki regular - and a terror, so it was logical that he would get through the ones in Hyoutei.
It probably was the idea that if he could ensure a win, there wouldn't be any more problems, but that was the furthest in his mind as he could recall. His acceptance of the challenge was something he credited to being a captain, an example of endurance and leadership. It was the most logical thing he could think of as he hit incoming ball after incoming ball, but somehow, in his heart, it didn't ring true. It made him feel a lot of pounds heavier, made him unstable. And then there was the nagging thought that made him lose the ball each time it pounded on his psyche with renewed vigour.
With every hit he made, he felt like he was letting people down... and yet he was feeling gratified.
/You're strong. / The voice whispered in his head. /You don't have to win this to prove yourself. /
He hit the ball back with much fervour.
/Win or lose, you won't fail your team... clear your mind and discover what your driving force is. Stop lying to yourself... /
He missed Atobe's return.
/You are proving that you are capable, not to your team or the spectators but to yourself... and to your opponent. /
The painful twinge in his shoulder worsened.
/Stop being a hero for others... start being a hero for yourself./
He hit the final shot and watched as it soared through the air, cutting through like a knife, spinning madly.
He knew the moment the ball made contact with the surface of his racket, what would happen. He saw Atobe's panicked expression - one of impending defeat and childlike awe - and a sudden thought washed his tension away. He didn't want to see that expression on his face again. It didn't suit his personality. It made his gut tighten.
And the ball touched the net - then dropped.
He lost.
"Hyoutei wins, seven games to six!"
I lost...
Closing his eyes, he tilted his head to the sky, feeling no guilt at all as he acknowledged his first defeat. He didn't fail anyone... and he didn't fail himself...
Taking a deep breath, he surrendered to feeling of contentment that surged through him.
I lost... but I won so much more than mere fame.
Eyes snapping open, he focused on his opponent. Atobe was moving towards him. Apparently, it was time for him to forgive and forget, injuries and all. Once face-to-face, he held out his hand. For others it may seem a gesture of sportsmanship - but for him it was a gesture of friendship - one he hoped the other would take.
He remembered his surprise when Atobe clasped it tightly, and instead of shaking, he raised their hands high up in the air - fingers intertwined.
I won my freedom - and this guy helped me get it.
OxxxOxxxO
Taking another sip of his now lukewarm coffee, Tezuka's eyes scanned the throng of people gathering outside; hoping that the one he was waiting for would turn up.
Still not there.
He sighed, smiling a little as he recalled the pouty face Atobe aimed at him when he dared him to ride the train to Shibuya. He won the dare it seemed - it was either Atobe was a no-show or he was held up somewhere waiting for a not-too-crowded train (Which would be impossible since it was the rush hour).
/"Stop giving me that smile, Tezuka! Are you mocking Ore-sama, ahn?" /
Atobe groused at him before he left the unit they were sharing near Hyoutei University this morning. He shook his head and took another sip of coffee. He was being petulant, but I'm sure he would show up. Atobe still has his pride after all.
He was a special case. He got under Tezuka's skin and now he couldn't get him out no matter how hard he tried - he seeped so deep inside him that he even took up Atobe's offer to live with him in an huge condominium unit before they started out in college. Despite each other's misgivings, he was sure they enjoyed time spent together, much to the surprise - more like shock - of their friends.
They had been living under one roof for two years now and they were still alive.
He helped Atobe move around without Kabaji (who was now abroad with his sister), and Atobe, in turn, did nothing but amuse him to great lengths.
It was rare for Tezuka to smile over something because smiling, or anything equal to it, was something he did not take lightly. For him, it was a very sacred thing. It always meant that he was contented... or he was amused. Now, amusement, as it turned out, was the sole reason for the way his lips would almost involuntarily curl up at the mere mention of the name "Atobe Keigo"
He knew who Atobe was way before their legendary game - when he was still half his present height. He saw him in first year junior high, still pompous as he was today, dragging a silent Kabaji with him towards the tennis court he was in, racket in hand and an over-confident smile on his lips.
"You! First year Seigaku regular!" He remembered being called so brashly. "Have a match with me!" The way he acted was just like any other kid who challenged him; except for a flourish in the way he held his racket as it pointed directly at him - or rather, his nose, and he was being overly dramatic about it. A 'cultured' dare, he mused, as he stored it away in his memory.
Though he did not accept the challenge and walked away silently, the stagy indignation at being treated like a, as the brat phrased it, "a lowly commoner", was enough to make him smile.
"You're in a good mood!" His mother noted during dinner. "I wonder... did you meet a nice, cute little girl?"
And he proceeded choking on his somen.
OxxxOxxxO
Tezuka thought, as like the other kids, he and Atobe would never meet again. However, as fate dictated, they did, this time in a proper tennis court during their second year. They were not face-to-face; instead, they were facing each other's captains. As ridiculous as Tezuka thought the line-up was, he was not in any position to do anything, so he relented. He was just a club member after all. That time, he swore that next year he would be the captain, just as his former mentor, Yamato, trusted he would. Atobe's act was nothing new to him even if he saw it only once - in that old, rundown tennis court a year before. Now, he was doing some sort of fancy hair flip that he often saw stage actors do after winning his first continuous rally.
After the game, Atobe walked past Tezuka who looked up from adjusting his racket strings just in time to catch him put his nose high in the air and huff. "Hmph!" He went, and walked on, head held high with Kabaji trailing behind him silently. He found it amusing, and, hidden by a hand, disguised as light coughing, he smiled. Really, Atobe Keigo is such a drama queen. He thought, before turning back to his precious racket strings.
Moments later, he felt someone hovering near him. He was not surprised to know whom it was when he finally bothered to look. "Inui." He acknowledged his presence and scooted over when it appeared the other wanted to sit beside him.
"There's something wrong with you today." Inui said thoughtfully, peering at him as per usual. "And I don't like it, it proves something's wrong with my data."
Tezuka didn't dignify the statement with a proper response and just got back to what he was doing. Of course, that didn't hamper the other's curiosity but augmented it all the more. Soon, the scratching of pen on paper reached his ears, and he wondered silently what the guy discovered about him. Was there really something different about him? Maybe it was the radioactive juice he ingested after the game when someone played a practical joke on him and switched his water bottle with Inui's. He must be glowing green or something. He checked on his skin just in case, and sighed inwardly in relief.
"Number Nine. Constantly looking Atobe Keigo's way... Number ten... in a good mood when Atobe Keigo is around..." He remembered hearing Inui mutter. "You aren't as anal-retentive as I originally thought you were..."
Tezuka didn't exactly know what to say, but he finally got through the initial indignation of being called anal-retentive enough to keep his silence. However, Inui's words stuck.
For days, he spent late nights pondering if there were any truth to Inui's observations. Even the invitation to the junior tennis camp didn't impede the disturbing thoughts roiling in his mind.
He had been looking forward to participating in the junior tennis camp, and now all he could think of was his friend's observation and the image of Atobe's egotistical features. He had known, from the way Atobe played, that he would definitely be chosen, so that meant he was going to meet him again - this time, face-to-face.
Tezuka was not one to downplay his own capabilities and he knew that an invitation would make its way to his mailbox. It was just unfortunate that his old injury started acting up again. He wouldn't be able to join them - he wouldn't be able to watch Atobe play... even the others like his old acquaintances, Sanada and Yukimura. It made him feel a bit useless but he did not dwell on it for too long.
/Number ten... in a good mood when... /
For some reason, he felt the need to go out for some air. His room was getting stuffy and open windows were not enough for the air requirement he needed to calm the nausea rising up to his throat. Quietly, he stood up and grabbed a coat. With a surge of teenage rebellion, he opened the window of his ground floor sanctuary and jumped out easily. There was a huge possibility that he would be found out loitering around at such late hour by his father who would be driving home soon, but he didn't care.
His feet brought him to the same place where he first saw Atobe, and sure enough, as always, he was there. Now he wasn't challenging people his age, he was pounding someone with the centre of his tennis racket, his sidekick Kabaji standing still and watching him do it with interest.
"Why are you so jumpy, ahn? You're making me dizzy!" The way he was scolding the poor homicidal redhead was so comical that Tezuka felt the involuntary quirk of the lips again. The agitated motion, though hurtful to the recipient, was very entertaining to those who watched. Maybe that was why Kabaji was not doing anything to keep his master from killing the boy... or maybe he was just a robot awaiting commands. Who knew? All he was sure of was if Atobe didn't stop, he was sure that the redhead would be stunted for life.
He was about to step forward and intervene when he saw two other people hurrying over to the court.
"Atobe! Stop pummelling Gakuto you're going to kill him!" The bespectacled one grated angrily. There was a protective air around him, and it was obvious to Tezuka that he doted on the poor redhead when he pulled him to his embrace. There was something going on with those two, he was sure of it.
"Owww... Atobe, you jerk!" The victim whined. "You're mean!"
"Are you okay, Gakuto?"
"I'm okay, Yuushi. Thanks for saving me..."
Atobe sighed in exasperation. "Good, God, you two get a room!" He groaned, snapping his fingers, and as if programmed, Kabaji handed him a towel. "Mukahi, you whined so much when you lost and I just gave you my penalty! Who cries over something like that anyway?"
"Look who's not whining..." The other guy snapped, his ponytail swishing as he moved his head. "You're just acting all superior since you're going to the tennis camp you jerk!"
"Ha! I don't need to act superior, I'm already superior to you lowly mortals!" Atobe sniffed importantly. "Besides, you're just jealous because you didn't get picked!"
"You evil -"
Tezuka quickly turned back to the direction he came from. Somehow, as he wandered away, he felt better already.
/Number ten... in a good mood when Atobe Keigo is around... /
A knot formed in his stomach.
Or not.
OxxxOxxxO
Tezuka had just finished his second cup of coffee and was now on the verge of ordering another one. He swore the couple in the next booth were staring at him with pity - he must look like a guy who got stood up by his date.
In a way, it was true... only, Atobe didn't exactly qualify as a date - yet. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and adjusted his glasses, eyes straying, once again, to the door. Where are you, Atobe? His glance switched to the menu in front of him. The image of what he knew was bittersweet coffee was sweetly beckoning, and his mouth was starting to water.
He was about to signal the waiter to bring him another cup of java when -
"TEZUKA!"
Jarred from his coffee daydream and fond memories, his head snapped up and eyes widened at the sight of a very sweaty, very rumpled, and very agitated Atobe. He just burst through the glass doors in an undignified manner, a duffel bag hanging on one shoulder and a crumpled paper bag on the other.
Tezuka watched with growing hilarity as he made a beeline to his table with teeth gritted and brows almost meeting at the bridge of his nose. He couldn't help the sudden urge to laugh, and it must've shown in his eyes because Atobe's own widened and he started to growl.
He looked exactly like a mad dog, Tezuka noted randomly.
Calmly, he raised his hand and signalled for the waiter to bring a glass of cold water. Focusing his attention to Atobe, he raised a questioning brow. "Rough trip?"
Atobe plopped on the opposite couch and dropped his bags haphazardly. "I. AM. NOT. GOING. TO. RIDE. A. FREAKIN'. TRAIN. AGAIN!" He swore, pounding a fist on the table, causing it to shake a bit.
Tezuka levelled him with a patient stare. "It isn't too bad."
"IT ISN'T!" His companion growled angrily. "I waited hours for a decent, spacious train, but I couldn't find ANY! I finally rode one because I knew you were waiting for me outside the station and I know how you hate waiting!" Atobe raked his bangs away from his eye with shaky hands. "I got molested by an old man TWICE before I decked him out cold with my elbow! He kissed - no, ran his icky wet mouth across my neck! He nibbled on my shoulder! It was so gross! I nearly got swept away by the crowd when I swam against it to get to our agreed waiting area, and I found NO ONE!"
"Atobe, calm down..."
"Ahn! Calm down! Let's see you calm down when you worried for a full fifteen minutes before realising that you have a message in your phone saying the one you're supposed to meet went off to a coffee shop you don't even know!" Atobe yelled in frustration, throwing up his hands. "First, I was worried, thinking that you've been mugged, and then you made me worry over my situation because you forgot to give me the exact location of this - this - place! Argh!"
"Atobe -"
"Stop!" He held out a hand as Tezuka started to apologise. "I know what you're going to say - and yes, it's your fault, just don't say it now or I'll get mad again!" Gasping for breath and overrun with exhaustion and trauma, he sagged against the couch, snagging the throw pillow beside him in an effort to keep himself comfortable. "And then you have to pick out a very common coffee shop." Atobe muttered, rolling his eyes.
He should be feeling guilty now, but really, the gravity of the situation was just lost on him. Tezuka started chuckling, trying his best to hide his amusement as Atobe trained evil eyes on him.
"Stop laughing! Are you mocking me, Ahn, Tezuka?"
Instead of stifling his laughter, he only succeeded in letting it out. Soon, his head was buried in his folded arms resting on the table and his body shook almost convulsively. Atobe was muttering colourful epithets, most about ways to satisfy his sudden taste for revenge while he whacked him over the head lightly with the hilt of the spoon Tezuka used to stir his coffee.
Calming himself enough, he finally straightened and gazed at his surly form. "Atobe." He started. "Stop glaring at me." It doesn't have any effect on me at all...
"You can't stop me, idiot." He huffed, glaring even more.
"I'm sorry, but I was not mocking you." Tezuka said quietly.
Atobe sobered at the sudden solemnity of Tezuka's words. "It seemed like it." He quipped lightly.
Tezuka ignored his comment and went on. "I wanted to let you know that I have thought about Inui's 'Theory Number Ten', last night, and I realised something really important just before I got out of our place."
"Theory Number Ten?"
He shook his head and gave him a warm smile.
"All these years... it still proved to be true." I am in a good mood whenever you're around... but I can't tell you that now, can I? In time, maybe... hopefully with a welcoming touch of lips on your skin...
"What are you saying? And what does it have to do with me taking that infernal train?" Atobe growled.
Tezuka, snorted, picked up and studied the menu. "Nothing. The dare was just a ploy."
"A ploy?" Atobe blinked incredulously.
"To see how much I have domesticated you this past two years."
ENDE
Hope you enjoyed it! Feedbacks are greatly appreciated!