Shattered
by Regatto
Disclaimer: No one belongs to me. I am just a devoted fan. ^^
A/N: This is a very long chapter! But I’ve really worked hard on it to do justice to the characters, and I hope that I’ve succeeded. Please be patient and stay with me till the end! And as promised, action between Tezuka and Fuji that does not involve tennis towards the end. ^^
Flashbacks are in italics.
5. Part II: Shattered
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“Neh, Syusuke, aren’t you excited?” Yumiko smiled tenderly at the diminutive boy walking next to her. “Your fourth birthday is coming next week, so we’ll going to go choose your present today!”
“Hontouni?” Fuji’s eyes widened with excitement. “Nee-san, can I really choose what I want?”
“Hontouni, Syusuke. Okaa-san gave me extra money.” Yumiko chuckled, a teasing glint in her eyes. “I know someone would like a new badminton racket.”
Fuji bent his head as a blush spread over his cheeks. He did want a new badminton racket! He had been playing with Yumiko’s old racket for the past few months, and although he did not mind the fact that it was not new, the racket was falling apart and the paint was peeling off. Badminton suited Fuji: he was light and quick-footed, and the game came naturally to him. He smiled happily. There was this silver racket that had caught his eye the last time when he had gone to the store with Yumiko...
Abruptly, Fuji stopped walking.
“Syusuke? What’s wrong?” Yumiko asked in surprise as her brother stood in front of a high metal fence, as though mesmerized.
“Nee-san, what are they playing?” Fuji asked softly, his hands gripping the metal barrier tightly, as he stared at the courts.
“Tennis. They are playing tennis, Syusuke.”
“Tennis.” Fuji lightly savored the word in his mouth, letting the taste linger on his tongue.
It was like magic. The players were running across the courts but in Fuji’s mind, they have slowed down to a hypnotic dance: their movements smooth, fluid and powerful as they extended their arms in graceful arcs. A seductive melody rang in Fuji’s ears as the rackets struck the balls and sent them ricocheting across the courts. The players with their determined faces, their grunts as they return a powerful shot and the ecstatic shouts when they won a crucial point. Everything about tennis was enthralling: it was like a siren’s song, pulling and tugging at Fuji’s heart and soul like nothing else.
That afternoon Fuji bought a tennis racket instead.
~~~~~~~~
Gripping the tennis racket with both his hands and ignoring the needle-like stabs of pain in his right palm, Fuji forced the tennis ball back across the court. He would not allow the long volleys to end just yet.
~~~~~~~~
He knelt on the ground, painfully sucking in deep breaths of air, finally loosening the grip on his tennis racket. His muscles were burning, his elbows and knees bruised and scraped; his face and limbs were covered with sweat and dust.
“Fuji Syusuke! Forget about tennis already! You just can’t play!” Satoshi sneered as he looked at the small figure kneeling on the ground. “You’re a decent badminton player, I’ll give you that! But tennis? You’re pathetic.”
“Neh Satoshi, that’s kind of cruel isn’t it?” remarked Koji, a sarcastic grin on his face. “He has been trying very hard you know. You can’t blame him for not being able to play properly even after three months of lessons and practices.”
“I’m might as well be playing against my dog if I can win this easily! At least the ball will return!” Satoshi exclaimed loudly before he maliciously threw a ball at Fuji’s face. “Go away Fuji Syusuke. You’re too tiny and weak for tennis, everything works against you!” Thumping his chest pompously, Satoshi continued. “Let me give you a piece of advice: forget about tennis, because you’ll never win a game!”
Ignoring the tears that were silently running down Fuji’s face, the two boys laughed loudly and sauntered off, swinging their rackets jauntily.
Their cruel laughter and words echoed in Fuji’s ears. You’re too tiny and weak for tennis, everything works against you! Forget about tennis! You’ll never win a game!
“Daijoubu?” At the sound of a new voice, Fuji looked up. It was a stern, unsmiling boy about his age, with a pair of glasses perched on his nose.
Not trusting himself to speak, Fuji nodded mutely and hug his tennis racket tightly for comfort.
“Why do you play tennis?” Looking at the tear-filled blue eyes, the boy asked curiously. “I mean it can’t be fun falling down and getting injuries. I have seen you play several times.” At these words, Fuji’s head bowed in shame and embarrassment, but the boy continued. “You were really struggling and your movements were awkward. Why do you continue to play tennis, even after all the insults and the bruises?”
“Because I love it.” At first, the voice was soft and muffled, but then it grew stronger as Fuji stared at the boy through a haze of tears. “I love tennis. It touches me here.” Fuji said with conviction as he placed his scraped hand on the left side of his chest. “I don’t care if I fall down, I don’t care if I get injured, I don’t care if I never win a game. As long as I play tennis, I feel alive.” Saying this, Fuji thrust his chin up defiantly, as if daring the boy to mock him.
Instead the boy stretched out his hand. Confused, Fuji lay his hand on the boy’s and felt himself been pulled up. They stood staring at each other for a long while before the boy asked solemnly. “What is your name?”
“Syusuke. Fuji Syusuke.” Answered Fuji tentatively.
“Fuji Syusuke.” The boy said slowly, then he took a surprised Fuji’s hand into his own. “Never stop playing tennis, Fuji. Tennis is about physical strength, which the two boys earlier had.” His grip tightened as he continued. “But tennis is about the mind as well. What you lack in physical strength, you can compensate by using your brains. But most importantly, tennis is about heart and will, and you have that in abundance. Mental strength and courage will bring you much further than they ever will go. And because you love tennis, you will readily embrace setbacks and defeats: as painful and agonizing as they may be, they will help you grow. Become strong, Fuji.”
Saying this, the boy released Fuji’s hand and turned to walk away.
“Wait!” Feeling a strange sense of loss, Fuji shouted. “Thank...thank you, but I didn’t get your name.”
The boy half turned, his glasses glinted in the afternoon sun. “My name’s Tezuka. Tezuka Kunimitsu. One day, we’ll play, Fuji Syusuke.”
~~~~~~~~
As the ball flew across the net, Tezuka moved towards his right to return the ball. Fuji allowed his mouth to quirk with satisfaction: the ball had not gone into Tezuka-zone this time.
~~~~~~~~
Fuji trained hard to increase his strength and stamina in order to improve his game. But more than that, he tapped into, honed and wielded his very considerable mental faculties. He learnt that under pressure, he could calmly disassociate himself from the furor of the battle. He would then uncover his opponent’s weaknesses, dissect them, formulate strategies and then attack them methodically. Fuji knew that his tennis would never be characterized by force and power: his body was not built for that. Instead he set upon developing techniques that utilized his built and speed, and more importantly, wrecked havoc on the opponent’s psychology. After all, tennis was a mind game: the purpose of each shot was just as important as the delivery - knowing when to provoke and agitate, when to pull back and defend, and when to deliver that devastating finishing shot that would crush the opponent’s confidence, jumbled up his mind and kill his fighting spirit.
He defeated Satoshi and Koji in their next games. By the time both matches ended, the two boys were shell-shocked and white-faced.
As Fuji played and played, his tennis racket became an extension of his body and mind, and his game became lethal. Opponents came and challenged him, but they toppled like dominoes. The smiling boy, who looked so fragile and innocuous, was a dangerous opponent. Only fools underestimated him, and even strong players learnt to fear his unorthodox techniques and skills.
By the time he was six, he had gained the reputation of being a prodigy. The title of tennis tensai became synonymous with the name of Fuji Syusuke.
~~~~~~~~~
“Deuce!”
“Did you just see that? I can’t believe it! Higuma Otoshi. Fuji-sempai won the point with his Higuma Otoshi!” Momoshiro shouted.
“Nya! Fuji! With your left hand! Hoi! Hoi!” Kikumaru could no longer suppress his excitement.
~~~~~~~~~
He met the Tezuka again when he went to Seigaku. The latter had grown taller, but he still wore a pair of glasses and if possible, his face had become even more austere. Although they encountered each other on the school grounds, they never acknowledged each other. Fuji wondered if Tezuka Kunimitsu had forgotten about him. Tezuka had joined the Seigaku tennis club, while Fuji had opted to join photography club instead.
One afternoon, Fuji had just finished playing a casual game of street tennis when Tezuka appeared before him.
“Shall we play, Fuji?” Tezuka asked, as if all the intervening years had never passed between them.
“Of course, Tezuka.” Picking up his racket, Fuji grinned. “I’ve become strong.”
Fuji lost the match. But he was not surprised. Tezuka’s physical strength and flawless techniques were awe-inspiring no doubt, but coupled with his steely mental strength and nerves, Tezuka was the perfect all-rounder. And Fuji knew, beneath that icy exterior, the core of Tezuka burnt with passion for tennis.
“You should join the tennis club, Fuji.” Tezuka remarked afterwards, as they sat on the bench, guzzling their water.
“Hmmm. Why? I don’t have to join the club to play tennis. Besides, I am having fun with photography.” Fuji tilted his head as he gazed at Tezuka’s profile.
“You haven’t been playing all out until this game, Fuji. Join the club. Play alongside with me. We’ll go to the Nationals.” Tezuka stared back at Fuji.
Fuji smiled warmly. “Neh Tezuka, when you ask, it’s hard to refuse.”
~~~~~~~~
“15-0!” Echizen had taken over the role of umpire since Kikumaru was getting too rowdy and enthusiastic.
“What, what was that?” The Gyokurin pair gaped in shock.
“Disappearing Serve!” Shouted Momoshiro and Kikumaru in unison, waving their hands above their heads wildly.
~~~~~~~~~
Many people had said that Fuji Syusuke was somewhat of a half-hearted player, that he seldom played his best. His team- mates had teased him for being lazy, and Fuji’s reply was an innocent smile. He never tried to refute anyone or defend himself from the good-natured verbal jabs. He encouraged the misperception, for it hid the truth: that he did not like to hurt people. He had once been badly humiliated and suffered, and had it not been for Tezuka, he did not know if he would have picked himself up.
He could usually judge the strength of his opponent within the first few minutes of the game, and he would rein in his strength so that the game would be won with a comfortable margin, but not so that his opponent was dealt with a crushing loss. He had no wish to have his opponents broken and their dignity taken from them.
That is, unless if he were to be fighting for someone else. Things would be a little different then. During the match with Akutagawa Jiroh, he had played at full strength because of Kawamura and Yuuta. But even then, he had not been vicious. For an unprincipled and unscrupulous opponent like Mizuki Hajime, however, he had no qualms about toying with him and then destroying him on court. Mizuki Hajime was not a worthy tennis player. A person who would compromise everything to win a game did not love tennis. To Fuji, a good game of tennis was a sheer joy in itself , he did not need an absolute win to validate himself.
~~~~~~~~~~
“30-40!” Fuji gave a mental wince. He had not gotten the swing in his left hand properly yet, and his attempt at Tsubame Gaeshi had landed against the net instead. He would just have to try again.
~~~~~~~~~~
Fuji sat on the swing, swaying slightly as he stared at nothing in particular. He did not want to stay in the house, it felt empty with Yuuta gone. Yuuta had been so adamant about going to St. Rudolph that Fuji hadn’t been able to do anything except to watch his brother leave, a truculent expression still on his face. Pressing his slender fingers against his temples, Fuji tried to ignore the dull ache in his heart and tried to clear his mind of doubts and self-recriminations.
“Did Yuuta leave?” Fuji nodded. As usual, Tezuka had known instinctively where to look for him. Settling himself on a adjacent swing, Tezuka kept silent, offering Fuji his quiet company.
“I precipitated his departure you know? He couldn’t stand living in my shadow anymore. He left immediately after he lost a game to me again today.” Fuji’s eyes were dark and somber.
“It pains you.” Tezuka said softly.
“Yes.” Fuji admitted. That was no point lying to Tezuka. “But I have no other choice. Yuuta loves tennis as well. But he has to learn to accept that defeats are sometimes inevitable and that challenges would have to be conquered, be it mental or physical. If he’s only playing tennis to beat me, to try to get out of my shadow, he’ll never really get stronger and realize his full potential. He’ll only be limiting himself.”
“One day, Yuuta will realize that he’s lucky to have a brother like you.” Tezuka was stoic and matter of fact.
“I’m the lucky one. I have you.” Fuji’s eyes twinkled as he smiled. Then his voice grew serious again. “I will have to be patient and try to guide Yuuta. When he finally overcomes these barriers, he will become much stronger.”
~~~~~~~~~
“Deuce!” Fuji had just leveled the game.
~~~~~~~~~
“Yuuta,” Fuji said softly, “you wanted a game. It wouldn't be fair to you if I didn't play seriously.” He reached out to touch his younger brother's shoulder, but Yuuta flinched and shoved his hand away roughly. Undeterred, Fuji continued: "You have improved since your game with Echizen. Your strokes are deeper and more powerful, and your stamina has increased as well! You are a very good player, Yuuta...”
"DON'T EVER COME AND LOOK FOR ME AGAIN. I want NOTHING to do with you." shouted Yuuta.
Fuji cried silently in his head. Forgive me, Yuuta. I’m doing this for you. Love tennis wholeheartedly, accept the pain and the pleasure that comes with it. Then will you truly be strong! For you Yuuta! This is for you!
~~~~~~~~~~
“Advantage Tezuka!” It was match point.
~~~~~~~~~~
“I will never play tennis again.” Fuji plunged the blade into his hand...
~~~~~~~~~~~
The tennis ball dropped and then reversed back towards the net. Zero-shiki drop shot.
“Game, set and match! Tezuka wins, six games to love.”
Around Fuji, the spectators erupted into rambunctious cheers and began chattering simultaneously.
“Fuji-sempai! That was an amazing game! I can’t believe you made Tezuka-buchou fight so hard!” Momoshiro pumped his fists in the air. “Amazing!”
“Nya! Fuji! I can’t believe you can play that well with your left hand. Nya! This is so exciting!” Kikumaru was jumping up and down exuberantly.
“I don’t know how you do it. Just picking up a racket and playing with your weaker hand. But then you are the tennis tensai...” Kamio elbowed Shinji rudely in mid-mumble before speaking with admiration. “Inspiring play, Fuji. I wish more people could have watched this.”
Izumi and Fukawa were shaking their heads in disbelief. “Does this mean Fuji is actually a nitoryuu? Seigaku is scary.”
Echizen tugged his cap and smirked. “Hmmm! What else would you expect from Fuji-sempai?”
Amidst all this, Fuji stood rooted to the ground, silently staring at the open palm of his right hand.
“Fuji.” Fuji jerked his head up at the sound of Tezuka’s voice. He was standing behind the net, right hand extended for a handshake. Fuji extended his right hand in a similar gesture.
As Tezuka’s firm, slightly callused fingers closed around his hand, time came to a standstill and the jabbering of the crowd receded into the background. Fuji and Tezuka stood across each other, joined by their hands, separated by the net, seeing only each other, hearing only each other.
“You have failed completely, Fuji Syusuke.” Tezuka said suddenly, breaking the delicate trance that had enveloped them.
Stunned by Tezuka’s harsh words, Fuji took a step back. “What?” His voice was a bare whisper.
Deliberately, Tezuka kept silent. With agonizing slowness, he turned Fuji’s hand around until his palm was exposed to both their gazes. In a light, almost caressing motion, Tezuka moved his fingers to and fro across Fuji’s palm, tracing the ridges of scarred flesh and tissue.
“Did it hurt? When you plunged the knife into your hand, did it hurt?” Fuji flinched, but Tezuka continued softly as he gazed at the ruined hand. “It hurt didn’t it? The pain must have been overwhelming. That’s why you stabbed your hand repeatedly. You had to hurt yourself and make yourself bleed. You had to punish yourself because you felt guilty. Guilty because it wasn’t you who was lying on the ground, injured and bleeding.”
Fuji’s eyes were wide and unblinking, but his hands started to tremble. As traces of blood drained from his face.
“But stabbing your hand wasn’t enough, Fuji. You had to destroy it.” Lifting his head, Tezuka’s eyes bored into Fuji’s. “That’s why you broke your bones. You had to make sure that you could never pick up a racket with your right hand and play again.”
Around Fuji and Tezuka, the group stood in horrified silence.
“You were so thorough, Fuji.” Tezuka’s voice was intense. “So brutal. Because deep down, you knew the truth: if your hand were not completely destroyed, you would play tennis again. No matter how much guilt you felt, how much pain you endured, you would still pick up the racket and play again.” Slowly, Tezuka placed Fuji’s cold shaking hand onto the left of the tensai’s chest.
“You couldn’t reconcile one fact: that despite your love for Yuuta and despite all the tragic events that had transpired, you still loved tennis. That tennis was the sole thing that calls out to your soul and touches your heart. That’s why you ruined your hand so completely. Not because you felt guilty for what happened to Yuuta, but because you felt guilty for still wanting to PLAY.”
Tezuka released Fuji’s hand, but the tensai’s hand remained frozen in place.
“You have failed completely, Fuji Syusuke.” Tezuka pushed relentlessly, his voice pitiless. “You destroyed your right hand, Fuji. But you couldn’t destroy your tennis. Because you love the game, up till the last breath you take, your heart will still beat for tennis.”
*******************
The ringing sound in Fuji’s ears was replaced by a keening wail. Only Fuji was unaware that the sound came from himself.
Kwring!!! Suddenly everything shattered. The mask that Fuji showed to the world, the walls barricading his heart, everything shattered into a million pieces. As the last fragment fell away, baring his soul to the whole world, Fuji started screaming. Piercingly. Heart-wrenchingly.
“Iie, iie!” Fingers digging into his head, Fuji collapsed onto his knees as he screamed again and again.
The floodgates were finally opened: tides of sensations and emotions coursed fast and furious through Fuji, overwhelming him, drowning him in their intensity.
“Iie! Iie, I can’t take this...I can’t take this.” Hot tears poured from Fuji’s eyes. He could not breathe. He felt as if he were being torn and ripped apart, and left thrashing on the ground. There was pain, so much pain. He tore desperately at his hair and his fingers clawed at his chest, but the excruciating pain that sank its teeth into him wouldn’t let go. He started to shake convulsively, his teeth chattering as all warmth fled from his body.
Then a pair of strong arms went around him, pulling him against a hard body, and holding him in a tight embrace.
“Mi...Mitsu.” Fuji whispered, drawing in the familiar scent in shallow breaths and staring at the familiar face before tears blurred his vision and violent spasms wrecked through his body again.
Tightening his embrace, Tezuka gently pressed Fuji’s tear-soaked face against his chest and placed his chin on the top of the weeping boy’s head as he murmured softly, “ I am here, Syusuke.”
“I’m...I’m so cold, Mitsu. I’m in so much pain...I can’t take this. I can’t take this pain.” Fuji cried as he held on to Tezuka.
“It’s alright, Syusuke. I am here with you.” A trickle of hot tears escaped from Tezuka’s eyes as he buried his face into Fuji’s hair. “I understand everything. You are not alone anymore.”
“You le...left before.”
“I’ll never leave you again. I’ll never let you go.”
Then Tezuka was tipping Fuji’s face up and kissing him.
Heat. There was so much heat as Tezuka kissed his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. A cocoon of heat enveloped them as they desperately clung to each other, fingers threading through each other’s hair, and hands running urgently across each other’s skin. Fuji gasped as Tezuka’s tongue flicked into his mouth. Fiercely their tongues dueled and entwined as they hungrily plundered each other’s mouth; greedily they sucked and bit as they savored each other’s taste...
Finally they stopped, forehead against forehead, hearts pounding like sledgehammers and gasping and panting for air. Fuji’s palms were splayed on Tezuka’s chest, while Tezuka’s arms still circled him in a possessive embrace.
Lightly touching Fuji’s swollen lips with his fingers, Tezuka murmured. “Syusuke, are you still cold?”
The flush on Fuji’s heated cheeks deepened as he shook his head weakly. A warm languor had settled over him, his bones felt as if they were made of water.
Then realizing that he was practically sitting in Tezuka’ lap, Fuji stiffened and said anxiously. “The others!”
Tezuka chuckled. “They have left quite some time ago.” Tenderly stroking Fuji’s face, Tezuka continued with amusement. “We’ll have to thank Echizen for being so perceptive. He shepherded the entire gang out before we started kissing. If it were just Momoshiro and Eiji, they would have stayed and gawked.”
Fuji laughed in agreement before his eyes became shadowed again.
“What’s wrong, Syusuke?” Tezuka asked quietly. “You know it’s not your fault that Yuuta got injured. It was purely an accident. If time could be turned back, would you have purposely lost against him? Would you have done anything different?”
Fuji smiled sadly as he shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t have done anything different. I love him too much to ever lie to him like that.” Fuji sighed softly. “I know it’s not my fault, but I can’t shake off this guilt. And the pain in my heart...it gnaws at me, and refuses to give me peace.”
“Will you give me your full trust, Syusuke?” Tezuka covered Fuji’s hands with his own. “Let me share your guilt and pain. Let me into your heart.”
Tears tumbled down Fuji’s face as he nodded wordlessly.
“You’re crying again, Syusuke.”
“I’m crying because I’m happy, Mitsu. I...” Tezuka cut off Fuji’s words as he covered the tensai’s mouth with his own.
Tezuka’s fingers slid under Fuji’s shirt to explore the soft flesh, then he shifted his head and began to nibble at the sensitive skin of Fuji’s neck. Fuji shifted restlessly, and they began to tug at each other’s clothes.
“Mitsu...” Fuji moaned softly as Tezuka lowered him onto the tennis court. “I...”
“Shush Syusuke. Stop talking, just feel.” Saying this, Tezuka pressed their heated bodies together.
Fuji’s fingers dug into Tezuka’s shoulders as his cried out.
He could only feel. Pleasure, Fuji felt only pleasure. And Tezuka, Fuji felt Tezuka. Then Fuji’s mind blanked out completely, and he no longer knew where pleasure started and where Tezuka ended, only that he and Tezuka were moving together as one.
End Part II
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You’ve finished? Thank you so much for your patience! ^^ I hope you were not confused by the structure of the story which alternated between the present and the flashbacks repeatedly. And don’t mind me shortening Kunimitsu to Mitsu— 4 syllable names are too much of a mouthful! (His name will have significance in the next chapter)
As for the tennis court action that does not involve tennis—LOL, my first time writing something like this, so if it’s awkward, you’ll just have to forgive me.
Please stay with this story as the next chapter will be the concluding one. ^^ Will Yuuta wake up? We know Fuji and Tezuka love tennis...but what about each other?
Thank you Wadeva, Suke-san, Hikaruchi, Chii-san, Re-chan, Cheeseburger of Doom and Shikki for your support and kind reviews!
Wadeva: ^^ I made you nervous? Why? LOL. Thank you for your always prompt reviews. *glomp!*
Suke-san: After so many chapters, I finally gave the rationale for Fuji’s self-maiming here! I hope it’s justified (you know how twisted Fuji can be...^^)
Hikaruchi: Thank you so much for your continued support. Your reviews really brighten up my days! ^^
Chii-san, Re-chan, Cheeseburger of Doom and Shikki: ^^ I have stopped torturing Fuji. He needs a break and some TLC from Tezuka. As for Yuuta, all I can say is that I am a nice person...LOL