A Present for A Friend
by SIB

Author Notes: At last, I manage to write a birthday fic. I got this idea at 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning while I was listening to one of Tezuka’s Christmas Songs. This is supposed to be Fuji’s birthday fic, but I don’t know. Is it? Please read to find out but watch out for this story’s genre: angst.

DISCLAIMER: If I own them, obviously I won’t be writing this. I will be writing a plot for the next episode: Tezuka-Fuji as double partners!

WARNING: Does the word angst mean anything to you? And male/male pairing (Tezuka/Fuji, a little Oishi/Kikumaru). Oh also the ending is terribly lame.

Italicized words mean the words are considered important by me.

/Italicized words in here/ represent the characters’ thought, in this fic I only have Tezuka’s thought.




A slightly deserted pavement greeted his sight as Tezuka Kunimitsu turned to walk along the line of opening shops. It was barely ten in the morning, a time that he precisely chose to do his shopping. Festivity had never been his option to accompany his infrequent shopping, as much as he hated to jostle in a crowd of people. But since this shopping was necessary, he preferred to do it before people started to flock around the shops.

Yes, he was necessarily doing this to find a present for a certain prodigy.

Now that he had mentioned it, a new question swiftly arise. What should he give? Fuji Shuusuke had never been one that could be read through so easily since he kept most facts regarding himself close to his heart. Not even now, when they had befriended each other for almost ten years, the former tennis captain could claim that he knew Fuji properly. Although the word ‘friend’ did not seem quite right now, considering their conditions.

A sport gear shop caught his attention. Of course; tennis. Tezuka stepped closer to take into his sight several top quality rackets dangled on a row of chain inside the shop window. Sport shoes dominated most of the remaining space, leaving a little spot to be occupied by various balls. He noted unhappily that no tennis ball was displayed in that group. Since he chose tennis as his life, every little detail concerning the particular sport had seemed so significant to him. But unlike him, Fuji had no longer played tennis, except in occasional reunions Inui would propose once in a while, and giving him a tennis-related present was hardly a good selection.

His feet continued their steady paces as mechanically his thought flew to his old teammates. He still met them accidentally, such as Oishi, Kawamura, and Echizen –the ouchibi had gone as a professional player as well- but never deliberately. It had been two years since Inui gave up in initiating more reunions. Not that he was unaware of what the reason was.

More reminiscences were unfolding in his mind. Most of his fellow regulars entered the same high school as he did and once again they formed a noteworthy tennis team with him as the leader. And it was somewhere during their second year that he managed to straighten a few things up with Fuji. They rarely had dates afterward though, for their relationship was based in something far deeper than need. Neither it felt like love. He would rather call it a fittingness, since it would eventually happen sooner or later.

Then after the graduation, they decided to live together.

Tezuka needed some times to adjust himself with the new beat of his life. He was not used in another person’s presence around him, especially at night, but thankfully it was Fuji. Although his teasing could be painfully frustrating at times, generally the tensai knew how to place himself. Thus, somehow it worked out, with him walking the path of a professional tennis player and Fuji going to a photography school.

A hurl of biting wind passed him as Tezuka tightened his long coat. It was still at the end of February anyway. Fortuitously he noticed a pleasant-looking flower shop a few metres ahead of him. What about flowers? A bit too classic, but if he could indeed find the one suiting his taste, why not?

A bell rang vociferously as he pushed the door open. There was a cheerful welcome greeted him from the back of the shop along with a mixture of exquisite scents.

“Welcome! May I he- Tezuka!?”

The named one glanced up from the colorful sea of flowers he was currently looking at. A guy he used to know so well stood before his eyes. The fiery auburn hair could never be mistaken as someone else’s. “Kikumaru?”

Before any of them could say more, a raven-haired guy emerged from the back of the shop. Tezuka raised his eyebrows at his coming. “Eiji, do you- Tezuka!?”

“Oishi,” the former captain nodded at his former vice-captain.

Two seconds ticked away in silence before the Golden Pair simultaneously cried, “It has been so long, Tezuka! What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Australia to attend the tournament! ”

“I am in the middle of one,” he elaborated patiently, “but I have two weeks free to spend on my own.”

“Jeez, and I have just told Oishi that we probably would never meet you again except on screen!”

“You two seemed to still be in touch,” Tezuka stated. The pair in front of him grinned bashfully at each other; Kikumaru was noticeably squeezing the green apron he was wearing.

“Ah well, kind of,” the black-haired guy answered fretfully, “I was on the way to my medical school when I decided to have a little visit. You know, Eiji iss working part-time here. Oh, aby the way, why do you come here in the first place, Tezuka? I’ve never thought that you actually like flowers.” It was obvious the soon-would-be doctor was determined to keep the spotlight away from him.

The former captain thought for a second before answering, “A present for a friend.” The last word exceptionally tasted odd on his tongue.

“Ah,” Oishi’s eyes softened, “for Fuji.”

“I see you remember as well.”

“Of course we do!” his previous double partner replied indignantly. “This day doesn’t come every year and it become more special since it’s also Fuji’s birthday! He was my best friend!”

“Well, yes, we remember,” Oishi tried to calm his friend down as he cast a sidelong look cautiously at the taller guest. Once again he tried to change the subject, “So, you’re planning to give him flowers, Tezuka?”

The tennis player shrugged indifferently. “If there is one suitable enough.”

“I know!” Kikumaru suddenly exclaimed, drawing the other two’s attention compellingly on his way, “Fuji always loves beige, right? I think I have a couple of similar creamy-coloured roses somewhere.” He quickly fumbled across the room, searching for the particular blossom. “I think I leave them around he- Got it!”

Tezuka stared at the thrust out flowers apprehensively and silently agreed. Despite his minor dislike of flowers in general and roses in particular, these blossoms had an aura of dignity on their own, something he always highly respected. They were mystically beautiful in their pallor and he could quite easily picture Fuji with them. Would he be pleased to see it?

“I’ll take that,” he finally answered, followed by Oishi’s approving nods.

The red-haired guy disappeared into his office, muttering vigorously about packing them as best as he could. His former partner watched in quiet fascination at his retreating figure. The look on his face did not go unnoticed by Tezuka. Judging from their behaviour before, it seemed that they had found out each other feelings but... well, one could never be sure unless the doubts were confirmed. A slight pang bit his stomach, now that he perceived his friends were completely contented in each other present.

“Here they are!” all of a sudden Kikumaru appeared beside him, handing the lavishly wrapped roses. “I’m sure he will like it, Buchou!”

Tezuka nodded almost imperceptibly and took the flowers. “Well, then, I’ll take my leave.”

“Oh, hai and thank you!” the childish guy bowed slightly and later on added in a gentler tone, “I’ll make sure to drop by at his place this afternoon, Buchou.”

The tall tennis player left the shop silently and walked down the same path once more. There were already more people swarming around the lining shops as the sun gradually shifted higher. He was glad to find an apposite present in a relatively short time. Passing one more block and he would arrive at Fuji’s place. Halting for a moment, he inhaled a deep breath and stepped in...

...to a cemetery.

Almost robotically, he moved along the lines of gravestones, paying no heed of them as his eyes were pinned on a particular spot. His feet stopped dutifully in front of a stone inscribed:

Fuji Shuusuke 

(02-29-1984 ~ 04-07-2006)

Here he was standing in front of his loved one’s grave, a place he had tried to avoid for the last eleven months since his death anniversary. There were no tears left in him; they were spent during his first year of living without Fuji, at cold nights when he would be awaken by nightmare only to find that the prodigy had gone beyond his reach. He was alone and he would cry until dawn broke and morning to come. Then he would continue living that day until he came back home and repeated the same ritual. The past repeated itself over and over again until it reached the point of placing his sanity at stake. It was when he finally decided to leave their apartment and moved somewhere else where he did not have to see the smiling face everywhere.

Yet now here he was, standing on this spot again.

Tezuka bent forward and set the flowers right in front of the carved stone. The two colours, beige and gray, seemed to blend well to his eyes. It was Fuji who was sleeping there after all.

“Happy birthday, Fuji.”

As those words fell from his lips, Tezuka felt his inner being crumbled. The last time he said those words, four years ago, they were in the middle of an intense lovemaking. That time Fuji’s first reaction was to stare at him incredulously before cracking into a melodious stream of laughter. Tezuka recalled himself lifting his eyebrows questioningly as the laughter melted into a gentle smile.

/”Thank you, Tezuka,”/ he could almost hear the hauntingly sweet voice in his head. Then the slender arms sneaked up and pulled his captain down, joining their lips again.

And now...

No answer, no smile, no kiss, nothing but a bleak ashen gravestone in front of him. How the hell a car accident could take Fuji from him?

Tezuka rose from his squatting position almost abruptly. His eyes were implausibly stung; the efforts he had made during the last eleven months to convince himself that he was getting over it, vanished into oblivion in front of Fuji. He had not forgotten him. He probably could never.

His spectacles began to moisten and Tezuka turned away to leave. Suddenly his heart skipped a beat as he beheld a picture he knew so well.

Seven familiar guys wearing Seigaku’s tennis uniform emerged from out of nowhere before his eyes. All had their jackets on, even Kaidou and Echizen were wearing shorts as they usually had. For a split second, he felt like time had stopped and he was back in the high school, standing as usual in front of the other regulars next to Ryuzaki-sensei. He could almost see a certain smiling face, there right before him.

As if Fuji were there with them

Tezuka shoved his hands into his coat’s pockets, struggling to compose himself. Fools. They were doing it for him. And for Fuji. His eyes, however, lingered on the well-known faces. They were waiting and he knew what he had to do.

With a slightly quivering but equally deep and authoritative voice, the captain ordered, “Dismissed.”

“Hai!” There was a chorus of exclamation erupted in the quiet cemetery.

The faces were trying to smile at him, while he knew for sure, they were striving as hell not to cry. He shoved his hands even deeper when they walked passing him, to gather in front of their departed teammate. Tezuka restrained back a choke as he turned his eyes back to the gravestone. Fuji was the reason why they had stopped their habitual reunion two years ago and yet he was the one who regrouped them back.

He stared at the mass of blue-white uniforms, listened at the familiar voices, savoring the feeling that he was somehow a Seigaku captain again. Suddenly he could hear a sweet voice rose.

“Arigatou, Tezuka-buchou.” Rustling soft wind blew around him quietly as if there was an invisible hand caressing his cheek.

And his tears fell. He knew Fuji was there with them. And yet he wasn’t.

-Fin-

Ramblings: What the hell I’m doing? I can’t even say that I like this fic, it made my eyes burned all the way writing it. As much as I like angst... oh well, I wrote it already. I apologize if I disturb any of your happiness in celebrating Fuji’s birthday. For those who have bothered to read, really thank you. If you have any comment, please do tell.