Title: Shades of Grey
Author: LusciniaeCantus
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: TezuFuji
Warning: Spoilers for Episodes 174-176.
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis in any way, shape or form.
Shades of Grey
Tezuka lived in a world of black and white. Everything could be broken down and categorized into these two concepts. There were good choices and bad choices. Right and wrong. Likes and dislikes. Love and hate. Sweet and bitter. Victory and defeat.
Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.
In Tezuka's world, actions spoke the loudest. What you did resulted in what outcome you achieved and, ultimately, who you became. Good choice of actions equalled good results. Daily, rigorous training meant an undefeated winning streak. It was really quite a simple concept and it worked quite well. At the end of the day, Tezuka's life consisted of two shades. White and black.
--
In Fuji's world, there was no room for solid, straight-cut lines of black and white. The boundaries all blurred into a giant mass of grey that was constantly moving and changing. He saw the world through a misted looking glass where everything was vague and different. And his smiles were tinted with the grey of early morning fog.
To Fuji, the world moved not in straight lines from point A to point B (because honestly, how dull would that be?) but rather in ripples. Any one event could become the trigger to an infinite amount of possible outcomes and one would never guess what a butterfly's delicate wingflap could provoke.
He had been born with the natural ability to read the shades and predict the ripples, just as he read and predicted a ball's spin, velocity and direction on the courts—with a frightening accuracy. Over the years, Fuji had honed this innate skill to perfection. A sharp, cuttingly precise perfection that usually lay hidden under cheerfully closed eyelids. He had also taught himself to manipulate ripples much like he controlled and dictated the spin of an opponent's shot. His was a world of fog, haze and dancing shadows, and Fuji was the master.
--
The first time Tezuka met Fuji, he looked right past him, unable to register the other boy's shadowy outline against the stark black and white.
The first time Fuji met Tezuka, his eyes opened for the first time and he could not read the sharp lines of the other's solid presence.
--
The first time Tezuka noticed Fuji, truly noticed him, he was both repulsed and intrigued. The latter reaction won out when Fuji approached him for a match, his smiles melting into the shadows of his face and Tezuka saw grey for the very first time.
The first time Fuji challenged Tezuka, he could make out a faint sliver of grey seeping in between the rigid line of black and white and his smile widened.
--
Now, standing here on the courts facing Fuji for the last time, Tezuka could finally see all of him—the fleeting white, black and all the varying greys in between. And for the first time, Tezuka did not feel blind as he looked at Fuji. He finally knew that not everything came in black and white, especially not Fuji. There was no describing the feeling welling up within him as he played the other boy, as he gave his everything and just a little more. It was neither happiness nor sorrow, neither love nor hate, but an odd paradox of all.
And when the game ended at 7-6 with him emerging the victor, the win tasted bittersweet in his mouth and Tezuka could not distinguish between victory and defeat for the first time in his life.
--
Later, when he kissed Fuji for the first time, Tezuka would learn that that was what Fuji tasted like. Bittersweet with hints of amusement and the coolness of shadows.
Fuji thought Tezuka tasted like refreshing simplicity.
(end)
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