Unattainable
by SIB

Author Notes: This is me again! I’m really sorry that I take so long time between my updates but at least I keep my promise ^^ Didn’t I say I will update in January? Well, here it is. As for the delay, I was having a writer’s block, not to mention trains of tests which nearly killed me... And then, when finally I had some inspirations, Peter Jackson kidnapped me to Middle Earth! Yes, I watched Return of The King and henceforth unable to move my mind from it. Anyway, I managed to finish this chapter. Hope you will like it, especially my reviewers. Thanks a lot to you, guys!

DISCLAIMER: Still not mine, except for the plot.

WARNING: 

For the entire story: (read in the first chapter)

For this particular chapter: I think PG is fine for this chapter. Oh, and I have developed another pairing in this chapter, Atobe/Fuji, but still the main pairing is Tezuka/Fuji. For you who object, I advise you not to read.

Italicized words mean the words are somehow important.

/Italicized words in here/ represent the character’s thought, whose thought it is I think you can guess.




Chapter Three: Anyone But Him

Seigaku High School; Tennis Club’s Changing Room

September 15 – 00:16 p.m.

“We are not ready yet.”

Tezuka looked up from the weekly report he had been reading as he heard Inui’s voice woke him up to his senses. The taller manager stood looming in front of him, still unable to disentangle himself from his green book of data. Unnoticeably, the captain drew a sigh out of the trivial disruption. Seeking nothing but quietness, he had chosen the tennis club’s changing room in this particular break time since it seemed unlikely anyone would have the mood to play in such an uninviting weather –it was scorching out there. His classroom was hopelessly tumultuous and now, apparently Inui dreadfully shared the same idea.

But, well, it was one of his duties as the captain to listen to all opinions given by any part of the team.

He focused his eyes at the glinting glasses set on the manager’s nose perfectly. “We are not ready yet for what?”

“The forthcoming match,” Inui answered evenly, “Hyoutei will be our opponent and I am exceedingly unimpressed by our team’s performance at the moment. They are the last year’s winner, Tezuka, and with our present condition, I am almost convinced they will win eventually.”

No one spoke for a moment. Tezuka, of course, knew what the taller guy meant. The Golden Pair was still broken since the acrobatic player’s lacks of synchronization had not been cured. Momoshiro was fuming even now for the ‘insult’ he had taken from Kikumaru and not even Echizen could expunge the frown out of his brow. Concisely, no one in the team seemed to be aware of the strength their next opponent possessed. The only player he was able to deal with was the prodigy due to their lovemaking merely three nights before and considering that it was Fuji, he doubted that the impervious persona would cooperate so easily for these matches, which seemed to be the least matter in his mind.

“I feel the need to inquire whether you have or you have not given some thoughts of this matter yet. We cannot take a risk to lose here while there is still a long way to go to the National.”

“I have,” Tezuka answered heavily. His temple was excruciatingly throbbing, one of the worst side effect of lacking of sleep. If only he did not have to go through an unexpected mission last night, which resulted two scoundrels in custody and the headache he was suffering now, supposedly he would be able to offer a more fitting reply. “But I have yet to decide what action to take.”

“That is obvious to me,” his manager gave a comment, rather patiently, “but if you don’t mind, Tezuka, I am about to give you several counsels. Regarding Fuji.”

The stoic face remained impassive. “I’m listening.”

Inui took a deep breath before beginning his homily. “We both know that he has marvelous skills in tennis as in other fractions of his life in Seigaku, but there is a fact that must not be overlooked. He is formerly a regular in Hyoutei and it is possible –I do not say it for sure- that he is still somewhat in connection with his former school, the tennis team to be precise. And the way he acts all of these times fails to convince me that his faith lays with us, not to mention-“

“Are you suggesting that Fuji leaks some crucial information to Hyoutei?” Tezuka cut the speech in sudden rashness.

“I may be wrong,” quickly the standing guy responded, “I know this is rather hard to believe, above all if you already have developed some particular feelings toward our prodigy, but-“

It alarmed him that Inui seemed to be in knowledge of the little secret he shared with Fuji. Disregard to the fact that it was highly impolite to cut one’s statement for the second time in less than ten seconds, he once again stopped the rambling. “I am surprised that you are actually thinking that what I feel can affect my judgment, even worse, in tennis.”

“There is always a possibility in the most impossible, no matter how small it is. I merely point out the worst prospect, Tezuka.”

“I know,” the captain answered resolutely, his stern eyes were pinned at his own image at the mirroring glasses, “and I thank you for that.”

The taller guy sighed weakly at the answer and turned around on his heels, ready to go. He had calculated that Tezuka would eventually give such a response. Well, at least he had conveyed what he needed to tell.

“Inui.”

A slight gentleness in the usually cold voice managed to stop his steps and the manager halted, waiting for the next to be told.

“I do thank you for that.” Inui raised his thick eyebrow at this, apparently not something he had expected coming from the ice king, who obviously never thought a kind of courtesy was needed in their relationship as a team member and the leader. “I really do.”

/I guess I don’t know him as much as I thought./

With a little smile on his face, he answered, “I know,” and resumed his paces.

Tezuka stared quietly at the door, which was shut closed by Inui. He meant every word he said; the manager was the only one speaking to him concerning the team’s welfare since Oishi seemed to be beyond any reach as he drowned miserably in the little quarrel between the Golden Pair. Even Ryuzaki-sensei had not talked to him privately since she advised him to take care of Fuji. Made it worse, he was perfectly aware of the fact that he had done nothing but the fruitless ones. He should move now, or Seigaku would meet the worst.

Everything ought to be faced one at a time. Tezuka closed his eyes and altogether the weekly report paper, muttering to no one in particular, “I will appreciate it much if you are disposed to answer my doubts.”

From the half-opened window behind him, the face of Fuji Shuusuke appeared. The tensai rested his chin on the uniformed shoulder of his captain, asking in mild amusement, “First of all, I wonder how you know of my presence.”

“You’re underestimating I2,” the sitting guy replied in even tone, still had his eyes closed.

A small chuckle escaped Fuji’s lips. “I certainly am not, or I would have been caught from the last decade.” Since no answer came from the other guy, the tensai helped himself in by leaping the waist-level window, into the room. He took his place at the table, sitting idly with his leg crossed. His eyes found another pair of other’s, which were staring straight at him. A playful smile emerged on Fuji’s lips.

“So, what do you think about me now?”

“Since you are already here, why don’t you answer it?” Tezuka retorted. His voice revealed nothing, not even suspicion.

The smile faltered into rueful one. “Who am I to give an answer which can convince you, my captain? If I defend myself to be not guilty, I don’t think you will believe me at any rate.”

“Try me.”

Fuji held his gaze for a minute, trying to figure out of why this guy did not relent. The persistency, the straight sharp look Tezuka had upon him, the firm attitude... he had lost of what actually had made him fall for the captain in the first place. But perhaps it was never to be thought of since reasons had fled out of him if such as emotions were to be involved. Still, fear that the captain would put less than little trust on him filled his every corner. Inhaling a deep breath, he readied himself to answer.

“I don’t betray you, Tezuka. I have never put more allegiance in Hyoutei than what I have for Seigaku,” he answered defensively, “that if you trust the words of a murderer.”

The brown eyes narrowed into a pair of menacing slits. The captain rose to his full height and walked across the room, halting in front of his sitting teammate. Fuji had never felt fear before, yet now his heart was sinking under the gaze. Tezuka put both of his palms on each side of the prodigy, closing the distance between the two pairs of eyes.

“I was taught not to believe any word given by anyone,” the rich cold voice said.

“I was told not to say anything but the lies,” Fuji replied almost in a whisper.

But they knew, both had violated the uttermost laws they had just exclaimed.

No one could tell who had demolished the range between them first. What they could tell were they found their lips on each other’s not so long after. It was a long slow kiss, almost no lust could be detected within it, yet the pair could not be happier with what they had at the moment. Something so small, so trivial and insignificant, nonetheless was also something new that they were eager to taste. Something so anomalous that they never had or sought before, like a part they had lost as time flowed. They were never sure but at the time being, they were contented of that little something.

Tezuka drew his hand closer as he felt the other guy shifted his feet that now he was trapped in the circle of Fuji’s legs. He could feel the prodigy’s mouth formed a little smile, almost unnoticeable. Nearly at once, the captain felt his desire inflated and his mouth began to deepen the kiss into a hungry one. One of his hands comfortably settled itself on Fuji’s slender waist. He could feel the tensai brought up his right hand and let it lie upon his shoulder until a coldness of metal suddenly assaulted his senses to life.

Fuji was holding a knife on his right hand, its sharp side was currently aimed at his neck.

“An I2 caught off his guard?” the tensai teased with a mischievous smile lavished his freed lips, entirely enjoying the game. His leader raised a pair of thick eyebrows.

“Smart.”

The smile widened slightly. “I’m flattered, thank you.”

He felt the sharp blade was pressed to his skin and a slight familiar pang ran through him. Deep scarlet liquid leaked from the newly-opened wound, yet before he could take care of it by himself, the prodigy had leant forward and run his tongue along the crimson track. The feeling of a wet warm object on his skin sent a shiver down his spine. Obviously his suddenly stiffening body had not gone unnoticed by the prodigy, as a small laugh escaped his lips. “You know, Tezuka, at this rate you will be killed before you can catch me.” Before the agent could give him a counterattack, a loud ring of bell erupted mercilessly.

Fuji slid the small knife back to where it was –under the long sleeve of his uniform- and slipped out of his captain’s arms with fastest agility imaginable. The smile still played along his lips as he headed toward the door, saying lightly, “Too bad, but we have to continue it some other time. Don’t want to be late now, do you, Tezuka?” And once again the prodigy had scored a point, knowing the strict leader would have no excuse to skip class.

He followed the deft movement with his eyes until Fuji disappeared behind the closed door. He gave a long sigh before walked his feet to the class himself, unconsciously making a mental note to be taught later to the new agents.

Never to kiss an assassin.

--- ---

Prefecture Tennis Court

September 24 – 04:15 p.m.

“Tezuka!”

The captain slowed down his strides as he heard Oishi’s voice coming from his back. The vice captain quickly fell into pace beside him, his face had worries written all over. “How is your left arm?”

Tezuka shrugged indifferently, “Fine.”

A frown emerged on his vice captain’s temple, his voice was full with disbelief along with concern. “Don’t ask me to believe it. I have never seen you so frankly display your pain before. And now you’re saying everything is fine?”

“I’m fine, you need not to worry,” the respond remained unaffected by Oishi’s assertion of suspicion. There was enough embarrassment he had suffered by falling to his knees at the heart of the court in the middle of a game. In spite of the fact that his adversary was the captain of last year’s National champion, Tezuka scolded himself for not able to endure the excruciating pain. Now he would not have every member of the team to fuss over him. Not that it was the only matter plaguing his mind.

There was Fuji. He knew not why the prodigy could hold so much importance within him, yet every now and then he managed to catch the look Atobe had been given to the particular Seigaku’s member, which was far from comforting. True, the tensai had been a part of Hyoutei before, but now he had his struggle with Seigaku, or at least he ought to be. Dislike, and if Tezuka was not mistaken, envy too was lurking behind the rival captain’s eyes, as if Fuji had no right to decide where his loyalty lay. Protective could be more appropriate, still jealous was undeniably the closest word to explain why the stare had bothered him so.

Yes, jealous. He would not have anyone, to look at his prodigy that way.

“Ano, Tezuka...”

A hand reached his arm, causing the captain who was lost in his thoughts to glance over his best friend. Oishi was staring rather in horrid expression of a scene several metres ahead them.

--- ---

Prefecture Tennis Court

September 24 – 04:27 p.m.

It was weird.

Fuji looked down at the reddening courts below him. The setting sun illuminated its ray that the fields seemed to glow in yellowish scarlet. It was as if blood had been spilled in the tournaments that confronted two of the supreme teams. The luminosity fascinated him, yet it could erase not the unsettling feeling that had occupied most of his heart’s space ever since he met his old friends.

He was happy to see them again, even though they were much like long-standing adversaries now. What was weird was the fact that he could hardly recall any moments he had shared with his friends. Occasionally he would feel that he had grasped a piece of memories and the next second it slipped away into the back of his mind, untracked, as if the four months he spent in Hyoutei was nothing but a dream. But of course it was no dream, since they obviously knew him and had greeted him once they met though rather coldly.

The captain was a different story. Atobe did not even say a word to him, yet he could see so many unspoken ones hidden in his eyes. It was peculiar that he, a trained assassin, could not read what the other was concealing. Not to mention that he suffered a sharp pain right after he discerned into the bluish eyes.

Why?

Now that he pointed it out, the prodigy realized of how few the memories he had regarding the particular Hyoutei’s captain. He did remember the haughty attitude –his first impression of him- the Rondo to Destruction, and even the first game they had. But they felt so far, as if his mind refused to recall further. As if Atobe was someone he wanted to put behind.

Of course it was absurd. Why would he want to forget? He could recall every fragment of his life perfectly, in exception of several inconsequential matters. Then how could he explain his sporadic amnesia in those four months? Something was definitely amiss.

Footsteps pulled him out of his reveries as his senses sprang to life. Whoever nearing him took no trouble to call his name first instead of directly marching toward the tensai. Not one of his teammates then. He was curious as to know who the intruder was but a part of him was intrigued to find out what the purpose of approaching him so stealthily.

The strides halted, five inches behind him if his intuition was not mistaken, and no one moved for one full minute. They waited.

Strong arms encircled him from behind as Fuji found himself embraced by the stranger. He tensed for a second for the hold felt oddly familiar, yet he knew it was not Tezuka.

“Playing games, aren’t you?” the low husky voice whispered on his ear. Despite his state of shock, the prodigy struggled to shift in the circle of arms until he could stand facing the one who was so impolite to him. It appeared to be someone rather unexpected.

“Atobe-san?”

The tensai was truly puzzled. Why in earth the enemy’s captain who almost a stranger to him suddenly took him into his arms? He knew of desire, but the embrace he was foundered in held only a little of it. It was mostly filled with yearn and what truly bewildered him, relief. And there were his eyes.

Images flowed through him like blurred movies as he held the deep sapphire eyes in his gaze. Some of them began to form clearer portraits, only to find at the next second they once again shattered into smithereens, like waves perpetually wiped away what was written on the sand.

“Why did you leave?” The question was cold and arrogant, resembled accusation more than inquiry, still it had enlightened him no further. Not that he really heard of the question since there were already too many unanswered ones he endured in his mind. Helplessly he tried to grab at the pieces which seemed to float beyond his reach. It was a pure torture to know that the puzzle was not far from solved and there was nothing he could do to piece the last bits together. In despair, Fuji grabbed the grey-white jacket, staring keenly to the ashen orbs as if he tried to stumble on some answers.

“Who are you?” his voice was hoarse and desperate.

A fleeting look of confusion crossed Atobe’s face before he sneered cynically, “You’re not making this easy, aren’t you?” Since the prodigy gave no answer, he tightened his hold around the slender waist as his other hand moved and clasped the back of Fuji’s head. “Then I’ll make you remember.”

The prideful captain crushed his lips upon the other’s, leaving the tensai stunned. But the shock did not last for long. He remembered.

--- ---
Fuji’s Residence; The Mother’s Sitting Room

September 24 – 04:28 p.m.

Fuji Yumiko stared straight down at the cup of tea laid in front of her. Amidst the steaming vapor, she could discern her impassive mother reading her report of the mission which was undergone merely two nights ago.

“Excellent, but not unexpected,” her firm voice broke the silence as the report was closed.

The daughter merely nodded, perfectly aware that no other kind of response would be accepted. The other woman, who took her seat opposite of her daughter, raised her cup and emptied half of its contents, before resuming, “Not unexpected since I had him to execute my orders. He rarely failed me, save for several intolerable mistakes,” her eyes narrowed in distaste.

“By the way,” a curiosity that rarely colouring her voice managed to catch Yumiko’s attention, which soon altered into disgust once her query was completed, “how is the girl who was madly in love with my son?”

“I have her on the report, Mother,” her daughter answered gravely, “She soon lost her mind once she found out that herself was nothing but a tool to kill her uncle.”

“Then she is more than fortunate,” Yumiko witnessed of how a satisfied smile bred on her lips, “At least she needs not to lose her life,” and the smile crooked cruelly, “yet.”

The daughter sat still in silent anger. Too long she had suffered this that her resentment felt cold and no longer burning. She had always hated the older woman for her insatiable lust to see her victims bending under her torment, yet she had no choice but to live with her undeclared hatred. And now she was too accustomed to it. The eldest daughter could only quietly pray that her younger brothers would be more valiant to have a mutiny.

“Someday, perhaps, he eventually will fall in love,” she murmured wearily, not aware that she had not said it quietly.

“Fall in love?” Her mother’s tone fell into mockery, followed with a harsh laugh. “Certainly you have not forgotten the moment your brother was first attracted to someone, haven’t you, my daughter?”

How would she ever? The vacant look on his brother’s face would never be able to vanish from her memory. Like a piece of forgotten doll he lay on his bed, alone and no longer remembered the one he used to love.

“It was such a disgrace,” her mother’s voice in repugnance rang through her fluttering mind, “to see him walked his days like a moron. Love! He should be grateful to have me as his mother, or else he would spend the rest of his life nothing of use.” Her spiteful eyes flickered to them which were her daughter’s, “An empath I am and I still felt more than a little difficulty to entirely erase him from his mind.”

Yumiko did remember of him. Atobe Keigo, the tennis captain of Hyoutei. She had never really liked him, not even when she had learned the fact that her brother was attracted to the arrogant figure. An overconfident bastard who finally met his match in Fuji Shuusuke, nonetheless still fell in love with him afterwards. Made it worse –or better, she could not tell- the feeling was reciprocal. Never in her life before she had seen so much life woven in the genius murderer’s eyes. And not so long after, their mother ripped it off. Again the picture of her dearest brother looking vacantly at her, assaulted her sight, as if she had just beheld the terrible moment a while ago. The guilt had never left her, that she was unable to help the one she loved so much. Unconsciously she slammed her eyes shut, whispering quietly.

/Please, God, don’t let him remember.../

--- ---

Prefecture Tennis Court

September 24 – 04:31 p.m.

Waves of memories flooded his mind, each bore more pain than he could endure. Forcefully, he cut off their contacts and stared into the pair of bewildered eyes. He knew not how to feel for he felt too many within.

“Fuji...”

The voice was so gentle, nothing like the captain’s that was there barely a minute ago. Gentle fingers caressed the side of his cheek softly as if afraid that he would break under harsher touches. The tensai could see fear in the deep blue eyes, fear that he would back away again. More memories opened themselves to the prodigy and he could feel all the love he used to have, the one that once he gave so great to this guy standing before him. More and more recalling... Their first touches, their first date, their first kiss. Each stabbed him pitilessly and the touch he felt on his cheek made them worse.

“You went away without a word, do you know how I felt?” Atobe resumed softly, his fingers were still dancing feather-like on the pallid skin. “It hurt, and it still does”

Tears began to dwell in his eyes, blurring the two eyes which looking at him forlornly. He could scream that his mother had erased his mind, he could scream that he had moved with his memories incomplete, yet no words would come out of his mouth. They seemed to halt in his throat, suppressed by warm water that burned his sight.

The hand drifted to stroke his hair. The voice seemed to sink even lower in self-blaming and regret, “What did I do that was wrong?”

Unbarred, a crystal liquid slowly made its way down. /You were wrong to fall in love with me.../

A finger settled back to his cheek, restraining the single tear from falling onto the ground. The figure of a self-proclaiming captain had vanished into oblivion, replaced by a man that simply loved his dearest. “Tell me, what should I do to make you stay?”

All of a sudden, Fuji felt fear grasped his heart. The sight when his mother compulsively ripped his memory unfolded before him only too clear. He could bear not the second time to experience it again. He tried to push the taller guy, only to find that his hand was gripped by a stronger one. Before he could react, a kiss had been planted once more on his lips, silencing him.

“Fuji!”

The voice seemed to wake him as the other guy pulled back. With his slightly hazy eyes, Fuji could see two figures approaching him. Oishi, who called his name and Tezuka.

Fear groped onto him once more as he saw the Seigaku captain wearing an impassive expression upon his face. He struggled to free himself from the embracing arms and this time he succeeded. Almost as soon, he turned on his heels and ran.

Not even five seconds had passed when once again the prodigy felt his fingers were caught firmly and a tall figure stepped in front of him. Cold brown eyes were eyeing him angrily.

“Don’t you dare to run away from me.”

Fuji felt weak and helpless. But he felt something sprang to life as he held the gaze. Those eyes, which were discerning passionately into his blue ones during their intimate moments not so long ago, now seemed so distant. How he loved to see them laugh, showered in unmasked mirth, rather than this forlorn expression now they bore. No, he would not have this person hurt by his own deeds. He meant too much.

“I will if it can save us both,” the prodigy answered with slightly trembling voice.

He jerked his hand free and continued his strides in quickening paces. If there was someone he wished to protect from his mother and himself, it was Tezuka, even if it meant he had to take the tears alone.

/Don’t fall in love with me.../

To Be Continued

Ramblings: For those who suddenly feel the desire to kill me, I beg for your forgiveness! ^_^* To be honest I already had this plot when I started chapter one, but when I reread this chapter, I felt like I had made a big mistake... I hope I can clean up this mess I’ve made. Some words, I must admit, were taken from the Lord of The Rings movie. And about the scene between Atobe and Fuji, I would not be able to write it if I didn’t hear ‘October’ sung by Suwabe Junichi. By the way, I want to know in your opinion, who’s more suitable for Fuji? Just out of curiosity ^^ Thank you for reading and please review!