Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Singing Juices: A Tenipuri Musical ❯ A Decision Is Made: Part 2 ( Chapter 11 )

Just so you know, I know absolutely nothing about Tezuka's family other than the fact that he lives with his grandparents. I'm not sure if his parents are there too but I'm assuming they are. If that's wrong then I'm sorry, but they're there in my story. And I didn't know their names so I just made them up. Also, this chapter might have some offensive language. The Tezuka family really doesn't like gay people. And I cannot write kissing scenes. Just a general warning.

Also thanks to all those people that reviewed. Thank you!

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Chapter #11: A Decision Is Made: Part 2

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Tezuka stood waiting for Fuji in the door to the clubhouse. “Are you ready?” he asked sternly.

Looking up and over at his boyfriend, Fuji nodded and then reached down to grab his tennis bag.

“Good,” Tezuka said, nodding, “Let's go.” And Tezuka turned to leave. Fuji waved one last goodbye to Inui and Kaidoh, the only two left in the clubhouse, and followed Tezuka out. He wasn't exactly looking forward to what Tezuka wanted him to do—in his mind Tezuka's family had deserved all that they had gotten and more—but if it was something Tezuka wanted him to do then it would be done.

The two of them eventually got to Tezuka's house after a long and quiet walk. Tezuka was still angry and would be angry until Fuji had fixed things. But finally they arrived and Tezuka opened the door, calling out, “I'm home!”

No one answered.

“Maybe they're not home,” Fuji said, trying to get out of having to apologize, “Maybe we should come back another time.”

Tezuka shook his head. “They're home. They just won't answer.” Tezuka shot Fuji an accusatory glance to show whose fault he thought that was.

Fuji blinked and tried to look innocent. Seeing this, Tezuka sighed and shook his head then ordered Fuji to stay put in the living room while he set to the task of finding his grandparents, maybe his parents if he was lucky.

He was very lucky. His mom had been in the kitchen, his dad in his study, his grandfather out on the porch, and his grandmother had been in her garden. Tezuka had them all collect in the living room for Fuji's apology.

“Hey. It's that boy,” Tezuka's grandfather said upon seeing Fuji. Fuji smiled at the man. The man scowled at him in return.

Tezuka's mom looked scared and inched closer to her husband. “What's he doing here?”

“He's here to apologize,” Tezuka said sternly, glaring at Fuji and daring him to say otherwise.

“Yes,” Fuji said, smiling serenely, “I think we may have started out on the wrong foot.”

“Oh I don't think so, young man,” Tezuka's grandfather said, looking at him in extreme disapproval, “Unless wrong foot is what you youngsters call being threatened nowadays.”

Fuji turned to him and blinked as though he was honestly confused. “I don't seem to recall threatening you, sir.”

“Fuji,” Tezuka said in disapproval, glare going up a notch.

“But if that's what you took it as then I am sorry.” Fuji bowed in apology.

Tezuka's father snorted before saying, “And this is your little boyfriend, Kunimitsu?”

“Yes,” Fuji said, straightening from his bow and opening his eyes to regard the man with a blue-eyed stare, “Is there a problem with that, sir?”

“Fuji,” Tezuka said again in disapproval, trying to reign Fuji in.

Tezuka's father tried hard to look not even remotely threatened by the pure malice he saw in those eyes. “Yes, there is,” he said baldly, looking at Fuji in disgust, “It's disgusting.”

Off to the side, Tezuka couldn't help a small flinch and Fuji's smile seemed to grow sharper. “And just what's so disgusting about it, sir?” Fuji asked.

“Well, look at you,” Tezuka's father said, looking Fuji up and down in disgust, “You're a little femme-boy.”

“Kazutaka,” Tezuka's mom murmured warningly, putting a hand on his arm. But it didn't seem like she disapproved of what was being said, it just seemed like she was still frightened of Fuji.

“Well, look at him, Kimiko!” Kazutaka exclaimed, throwing a hand in Fuji's direction. “He couldn't hurt a fly with those twiggy arms. I don't know why you're all so scared.”

“But his threats seemed so real,” Kimiko said, defending her fear.

“So? Kunimitsu could make threats that seem real and he's a dirty little pillow-biter.”

Standing beside the sofa, Tezuka went carefully blank as though he hadn't heard what his father had just called him.

“Pillow-biter, sir?” Fuji asked, smile starting to look strained.

“Yes,” Kazutaka said, glaring at Fuji as though it were all his fault, “A queen. A butt-pirate. A cock-jockey.”

“Now, Kazutaka,” Tezuka's grandmother said warningly, “There's no need to be crude.” But she still didn't look like she disapproved of anything but the language. Neither did the grandfather at that. These people made Fuji sick.

“This is my only son, mother. My heir,” Kazutaka said, turning to her with a disgruntled look, “You can understand why I would be a little upset when he turns out to be nothing but a limp-wristed faggot.”

Having had enough of this, Fuji turned to Tezuka with a serious look, wanting to do something but needing his approval, only to find Tezuka staring straight ahead, jaw clenched and face blank of all emotion. Obviously he was used to this. And that was all Fuji needed to get serious. He turned on Tezuka's family with an icy glare. He had thought they had been bad yesterday when he had come to visit all by himself. It was one thing to be rude to the boyfriend. It was a whole other thing to be this mean to their own flesh and blood. He had been hoping they toned it down somewhat when their son was actually in their presence. Apparently not.

“And you,” Kazutaka continued, turning back to Fuji with a glare. “You did this to him. Before you he was normal. He was going somewhere. He was a son to be proud of. Now he's nothing.”

“I can tell you, Tezuka-san,” Fuji began icily, the sign of respect mocking, “That—

“Fuji,” Tezuka interrupted before he could get going, coming back to life to glare at him.

But this didn't stop Fuji. Eyes open and glaring at the whole Tezuka family, Fuji got serious, his voice low and dangerous as he threatened, “If I hear you people say one more word like the ones this man has been spewing, you will wish I had just killed you.”

“Fuji,” Tezuka said again, this time more urgently.

“Yes, son,” Kazutaka said mockingly, trying hard to pretend like Fuji's threats hadn't gotten to him. The boy looked serious. “Get your little bottom in line.” He scoffed and looked away. “At least you aren't the uke. That's one relief.”

Fuji nearly trembled he was so angry. “Look, sir, I—

“This was a bad idea,” Tezuka cut in before Fuji could say anything else. “Fuji,” he said, turning to the other boy sternly, “Let's go.” He turned to his father and bowed. “I'm sorry, father,” and then to his mother and grandparents. “Mother. Grandmother. Grandfather. If I had known he would do this I wouldn't have brought him here,” turning back to Fuji and glaring as he said this.

“What?” Fuji snapped, glaring back at him. “You can't actually—

“Yes. I can,” Tezuka cut in with another glare, knowing what Fuji was going to say. “And I think that it's about time that we were going.” Tezuka grabbed Fuji by the arm and started to drag him out of his house ignoring his father's derisive snort at their behavior.

“What was that?” Tezuka snapped, turning on Fuji the minute they got out of the house.

“What do you mean what was that?” Fuji asked, looking at Tezuka in disbelief, “Did you not hear what he was calling you?”

“I heard perfectly well. But that doesn't mean that you can just—

“He called you a limp-wristed faggot!” Fuji exclaimed. ”A butt-pirate!”

“And?” Tezuka snapped impatiently.

“And?” Fuji echoed, staring up at Tezuka, unable to believe what he was hearing, “And? What do you mean `and'?”

“I mean exactly that,” Tezuka said, “What does it matter what he calls me? They're just names.”

Fuji still couldn't believe this. “He's your father! He shouldn't be—

“Exactly. He's my father. And it's not for you to say what he should and should not do.”

“He's your father,” Fuji repeated, still unable to get over the fact. “And the rest of them weren't that great either. They weren't even helping! If I had known—

“Which is exactly why you didn't know,” Tezuka interrupted, glaring down at him, “I didn't tell you for a reason.”

“Well, somebody had to do something. If that's normal for you then— Fuji cut himself off, unable to say more, and looked away, eyes open and glaring.

But Tezuka was more than angry himself. “Would it have been so hard to just stay quiet and let him rant for ten minutes? That was all you had to take. I listen to him for hours. You only had to listen to him for ten minutes.”

“Nobody should have to take it at all,” Fuji said, turning back to Tezuka seriously.

“He's my father,” Tezuka said stonily. And that was that. Tezuka turned away with a scowl, calming himself down, then turned back to Fuji, who was still steaming. “Go home,” he commanded.

“What?” Fuji turned to him and blinked, looking confused.

“Go home,” Tezuka repeated, glaring at him, and then turned and walked back in his house. He had some damage control to do.

 

 

Inui watched as Tezuka and Fuji left the clubhouse, leaving him and Kaidoh alone. Those two gone, Inui turned to watch Kaidoh, who was tying his shoes, feeling almost nervous.

Kaidoh ignored him. Kaidoh had been ignoring him all day. He'd listened when Inui had something to say about his tennis game—he wasn't about to throw out good advice—but Inui didn't really have all that much to say about Kaidoh's tennis game so for the most part he had just been ignored.

Turning away, Inui looked down at his feet and sighed, leaning his head against his locker.

What he wouldn't give to have everything back to normal, with Kaidoh speaking to him and them not broken up. But there wasn't much he could do but go forward. He needed to think up a new plan, but nothing was coming to mind. What could he do when Kaidoh was so stubborn?

His eyes inexorably drawn to the other boy, Inui found himself watching Kaidoh again, almost sadly. In the background he thought he heard music playing and inwardly he cursed.

Great. Now he would embarrass himself again and Kaidoh would care less. Maybe if Kaidoh cared it wouldn't be so bad, but he didn't.

Inui tried to stop himself but still the words came. “Maybe I didn't treat you quite as good as I should have,” he sang softly, watching Kaidoh with sad eyes, “Maybe I didn't love you quite as often as I could have.” Seeming to realize that Inui was singing to him, Kaidoh looked up and over at him with a frown. “Little things I should've said and done,” Inui continued, “I just never took the tiiii-ii-iiime. You were always on my mind. You were always on my mind.”

Inui straightened from his lean and turned to the other boy, walking closer, but he still stood out of Kaidoh's arms reach, regarding Kaidoh seriously.

“Maybe I didn't hold you all those lonely, lonely times,” he sang, watching Kaidoh watch him, “And I guess I never told yoooou I'm so happy that you're miii-ine. If I made you feel second best, boy I'm so sorry I was blind. You were always on my mind. You were always on my mind.”

Kaidoh stood from the bench he sat on and backed up a few steps but Inui still came closer, singing, “Teeeee-eee-eell me. Tell me that you sweet love hasn't diiiiiieeeeed.” Inui continued coming even closer, “Giiiiiiiii-iiive me. Give me one more chance to keep you satisfii-ed,” Inui slowed, pausing for a breath before continuing softly, “satisfieeed.” By now he was almost standing right in front of Kaidoh and Kaidoh stared up at him defiantly. “Little things I should've said and done,” Inui sang sadly, “I just never took the tiii-ime. You were always on my mind. You were always on my miiiiiii-iiiii-iiiiii-iii-iiind.” Inui paused for a long moment, reaching out to cup Kaidoh's cheek as he finished softly, “You were always on my mind.”(1)

The two were silent for a long moment, Kaidoh just staring up at Inui. And Inui could feel hope beginning to rise at this reaction, but it quickly died when Kaidoh stepped back with a shake of his head.

“Inui-senpai,” Kaidoh said, looking at him with a glare. “You really need to stop.” And then he grabbed his bag and left.

Watching him go, Inui's heart broke for a second time.

 

 

Eiji and Oishi finally stopped running when they had reached the park. Hands on their knees, they leaned over and tried to regain their breath from their mad sprint.

Eiji regained his voice first. “So . . .” he said, between panting for breath. “You had something to tell me?” He didn't look nearly as nervous as he had before, thinking he knew what Oishi was going to say.

“Yeah . . .” Oishi said, sill regaining his breath. “Um . . . I just wanted to say that . . .” he took another deep breath, “well . . . you know . . . that, um . . .”

Starting to grin again, his breath regained, Eiji decided to be nice and say it for him. “That you think it's okay if we get together?”

“Um . . .” Oishi blushed and stood up straight again, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah . . . kinda . . .”

“Yeah!” Eiji cheered and threw his arms around Oishi in a celebratory hug.

“Eiji!” Oishi protested, but let his arms wrap around the other boy in return. After a long moment of just enjoying Eiji close to him, Oishi finally pushed him away. They were still in a public place, after all. “But we have to go slow, remember?” he reminded him, looking Eiji in the eye.

“Right. Slow.” Eiji paused for a moment then blinked and asked, “How slow?”

“I don't know. Just slow.”

“How about I let you be the one to make all the moves?” Eiji offered.

Oishi looked unsure about this idea. “I don't know . . .”

But Eiji liked it and bounced in place. “No. It's a great idea! You be the one to make all the moves. Yeah!”

But Oishi still looked unsure. “I'm just not so sure I can do something like that.”

“Why not?” Eiji asked, calming down a little and blinking at him. “It'll be at your own pace. What's the problem?”

“Just . . . What if my own pace is too slow? We'll never get anywhere. I wouldn't have even said okay this quickly if you hadn't been thinking of giving up.”

Eiji blinked again, now looking confused. “Giving up?”

It sounded like Eiji didn't know what he was talking about. Oishi frowned. “Yeah. Giving up. Fuji told me what you said.”

Eiji, if anything, looked even more confused. “But I didn't say anything.”

Oishi blinked. “You didn't?”

“No. Fuji told you I was giving up?”

“Yeah,” Oishi said, still frowning, and then started to recount what he had been told. “He said you thought I was lying when I said I loved you and that you were getting tired of waiting for me.”

Eiji looked wide-eyed. “I didn't think you were lying! And I was frustrated but that didn't mean I was going to give up. I was gonna give you some space for a little while and let you come around by yourself.”

Oishi blinked again, surprised by this. “You were?”

“Yeah!” Eiji said, nodding. “I mean, it's not like I'm gonna force you into anything. That'd just be weird.”

“But . . .” Oishi looked away, letting this work its way through his mind. This meant he hadn't had to make a decision after all! It was strangely relieving to know that Eiji hadn't been about to give up that easily.

Realizing what this might mean for Oishi's decision Eiji started to look a little worried. “But you're still okay with it, right? I mean, you're not gonna go back on what you said, are you?”

Oishi turned back to him, surprised. “No!” he said a little loudly, but then quieter and in a much calmer voice, he said, “No. No, I'm not.”

Eiji started to smile excitedly again. He couldn't believe this! He was so happy. “Yeah!” Eiji bounced happily. “Oh, this is great!” He dove in for another hug.

“Eiji!” Oishi protested, but let him hug him anyway.

Eiji grinned and stepped back, but kept his arms around Oishi's neck. “You're my boyfriend now. I can do that all I want.”

Oishi blushed and looked down. “Not like you didn't before anyways,” he mumbled. Then, looking up and knowing they were still in public; Oishi gently extricated himself from Eiji's grasp, but still held onto Eiji's hands and smiled softly at the other boy. “And now that we're boyfriends, do you want to do anything?”

“Let's go eat!” Eiji immediately cheered. “I'm starving!”

Oishi chuckled softly. “Burgers it is.”

“Hey,” Eiji said as they turned to walk away, “Do you think we'll see Momo and Ochibi there? We can tell them you finally said yes!”

“We'll see.”

 

The talk that had taken place in the burger shop had reawakened some hope for Momo. Maybe he might really have a chance. Maybe Ryoma might actually say yes. But it seemed like Ryoma was unsure of a lot of things and that needed to be taken care of.

The two of them were planning on going to the street tennis courts, but Momo kind of thought that maybe they should just go somewhere private and have a real talk. He wasn't really good at talking—action was more his thing—but he thought that maybe he should give it a try just this once. It seemed to work for other people just fine. Maybe it could work for them. But how to convince Ryoma of this?

“Hey, Echizen?” Momo finally said after a moment of silence, looking up from watching his feet and over at his friend. After their talk in the burger shop the two of them had tried to go back to their normal routine of snarking at each other but they were having a little trouble getting off the ground. There was this heavy weight between them that both of them felt but neither of them would acknowledge. Momo was trying to fix that.

Ryoma turned to him indifferently.

“You think . . .” Clearly nervous, Momo looked down at his feet and then back at Ryoma. How should he say this? “You think maybe we could just go somewhere and talk?” Yeah that sounded good.

Ryoma frowned, obviously somewhat confused. “What for?”

“I dunno . . .” Momo shrugged helplessly, “I just thought it might help.”

“Help with what?”

Feeling that Ryoma should already know what he was talking about, Momo held back on some of his irritation and shot Ryoma a significant look. “You know. To decide.” And if Ryoma asked `Decide what?” in that same blank voice of his then Momo really would growl.

“But what would we talk about?” Ryoma asked, still looking a little confused. Like talking things out was some strange and foreign custom that he just didn't get.

“I dunno,” Momo said, because he really didn't know. He was just winging it here. “Things. Maybe about why you're so nervous about this. Or about what's stopping you from saying okay. Things like that.”

“Do we really need to?” Ryoma sounded like he'd rather do anything but.

Looking thoughtful, Momo turned to Ryoma and nodded. “Yeah. I think we do.”

Much put upon, Ryoma sighed heavily, but finally said, “Fine. Whatever,” and then turned and started walking in the direction of the park. Momo followed behind.

It didn't take them too long to get there and when they got there Ryoma led the way into the deeper areas of the park and settled himself down under a tree. He waited until Momo was seated next to him before saying, “Okay, we're here. Talk.”

Momo shot him a look. “You have to talk too, you know. It's not just me.”

“It was your idea.”

“But you're the one who has the problem.”

“I don't have a problem,” Ryoma said, giving Momo a dirty look for the accusation, “You're the one who's so hung up on this.”

“And you're the one who's so freaked out.”

“I'm not freaked out,” Ryoma denied.

“Then what are you?”

“I'm nothing. I'm perfectly calm.”

Settling back more comfortably against the tree, Momo snorted. “Bullshit. You're freaked and you know it. Just admit it so we can get on with this.”

Ryoma stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. “Maybe I don't want to get on with this.”

“Oh come on,” Momo said, looking over at him in exasperation. “Why not?”

“Because it's stupid.”

“It's not stupid. It's useful.”

“How is it useful?” Ryoma asked, turning back to Momo with a frown. Because he really didn't see how it was.

“Well, you know . . .” Momo looked away and blinked at thin air. He didn't know either. He just knew that it worked for other people. “It'll help you decide,” he finally said, turning back to Ryoma.

Ryoma tilted his head to the side as he said nonchalantly, “Maybe I've already decided.”

“What?!” Momo shot up, staring wide-eyed at his younger friend. “Have you?!” he asked excitedly.

“No,” Ryoma said, smirking.

Disappointed, Momo fell back against the tree. “Ugh,” he groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Don't do things like that.”

Ryoma snickered. “You should've seen the look on your face.”

Momo removed the arm from his face to glare at Ryoma. “Not cool, Echizen. Not cool at all.”

Ryoma didn't really care though and shrugged his shoulders, still with that smirk on his face.

Seeing this, Momo looked even more irritated. “Why does it seem like I'm the only one who cares about this whole relationship thing?”

“Maybe because you are?” Ryoma suggested as though it should be obvious, raising a fine brow at Momo. “I was perfectly fine with just staying friends.”

“Well, of course, you were,” Momo replied, giving Ryoma an annoyed look, “You're asexual.”

And that was the second time that Momo had called him that. Was he really that bad? Ryoma was starting to get irritated too and frowned. “Well, if I'm so asexual then why are you in love with me?”

“Hell, if I know,” Momo said irritably, “It would certainly be a lot easier to be in love with someone else.”

What? Was Ryoma high-maintenance or something? A little hurt by the comment, Ryoma scowled. ”Then go ahead,” he said, throwing a hand out in a wide gesture, “Go find Tachibana's little sister or something and stop bothering me.”

Not liking that comment very much, Momo scowled in return. “Yeah, you'd like that, huh? Me leaving you alone so you could obsess over tennis some more.”

“Like you don't obsess over it just as much.”

“I at least do other things too,” Momo said, pointing to himself indignantly, “I don't just do tennis.”

“Neither do I!” Ryoma protested. “I hang out with you, don't I?”

Momo looked insulted. “Oh, I like that. You make it sound like hanging out with me is some sort of chore.”

Ryoma blinked, confused by how his words could be twisted so much. “I didn't say that!”

“Yes, you did!” Momo was suddenly sure he had the answer. “And that must be why you're dragging this decision-thing out for so long! You hate me and just don't want to say it!”

At this, Ryoma looked irritated. “Idiot. I don't—

“See!” Momo exclaimed, pointing at Ryoma as though that had proved everything.

“Stupid!” Ryoma said louder, getting frustrated, “I don't hate you! If I hated you you'd know it!”

But Momo was stubborn. “Well, I know it now!”

“I don't hate you!” Ryoma repeated.

“Prove it!” Momo ordered, glaring at Ryoma and just daring him to prove Momo right.

Annoyed, Ryoma snapped, “Fine!”

“Fine!” Momo returned.

“I'll show you!”

“Then do it!”

“I will!”

Caught in the moment, Ryoma did the only thing he could think of that would prove he didn't hate Momo. He grabbed Momo by the front of his shirt, yanked him forward, and soundly kissed him.

Not expecting this, Momo froze, eyes wide open in shock, just letting Ryoma do all the work, but then, realizing what was happening, he enthusiastically closed his eyes and began to kiss back. Both getting really into it, they fell back onto the ground and just kept going. Settling between Ryoma's legs, Momo introduced his tongue to the mix and the two proceeded to swap spit, thoroughly lost in the moment. .

“Mmmm . . .” Momo moaned in the back of his throat, his mouth occupied with other things.

“Uh,” Ryoma agreed, coming up for air for a second before Momo grabbed him, reconnecting their mouths for another invasive kiss, letting his tongue explore Ryoma's mouth.

But Ryoma was starting to come around. There was something wrong with this. What was it though? It seemed so right.

Finally Momo released Ryoma's mouth, moving to pepper open-mouthed kisses down Ryoma's neck. Ryoma tilted his head up to allow Momo more room, his breathing heavy. Momo sucked at his neck, seeming determined to leave a mark then went back to kissing Ryoma breathless.

Another few minutes of lost in the moment.

“Mmm . . .” Ryoma said into the kiss. “I've gotta . . .” Momo didn't let him finish the thought, reconnecting their mouths once more and deepening the kiss. But Ryoma had to do something. What was it?

“This is . . .” Ryoma murmured.

“Shh . . .” Momo said, wanting to get back to the kissing.

“No,” Ryoma said more clearly and started to pull away. “No, I need to stop.”

“What are you talking about?” Momo asked, trying to keep Ryoma close.

“I can't do this,” Ryoma said urgently, pushing Momo away harder. “Let me go.”

“But—

“Let me go!” Ryoma said, sounding almost panicked, and shoved Momo off of him.

“Hey!” Momo protested and then looked at Ryoma, who was hurriedly standing and wiping at his mouth. “What's your problem?”

“I . . .” Ryoma actually looked scared and, noticing this, Momo started to look concerned.

“Hey,” Momo said, starting to stand up. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked, reaching out for Ryoma. Ryoma quickly took a step back.

“I've . . . I've gotta go,” Ryoma said then grabbed his tennis bag, turned, and fled, nearly running out of the park and away from Momo.

Still concerned, Momo frowned in confusion. What was that all about?

 

 

Ryoma went to the street tennis courts. He always went there when he was upset. They had a calming effect on him.

And this time was no different. He got to the courts and everything started to seem okay again. He felt a little embarrassed for having run away like that, but what could he do? He'd admittedly freaked out. He just hadn't exactly expected to start making out with his best friend, his best male friend, in the middle of the park.

Thinking back on the experience, Ryoma wondered what had been going through his mind. Why had he kissed Momo like that? He hadn't planned on it. It had just happened.

He guessed it was safe to say that yes, he did feel something for Momo other than friendship. That little experience had made that more than clear. But did he want to actually do anything about it? There still was the chance that they would break-up somewhere down the road and not be able to stay friends. Plus, he still didn't exactly know how a relationship would affect the rest of his life. Would it hurt his tennis? What would his father think? Did that really matter?

Dropping his tennis bag on the ground and slumping down on an empty bench, Ryoma sighed and looked up to watch the game currently being played. Now what was he going to do? He couldn't just leave it alone anymore. He had to make a decision.

Ryoma sat there on that bench until it got dark. People came and went, playing games and finishing them, until finally everyone had gone home. It wasn't a busy day for tennis apparently. Ryoma didn't really care about that though. He was just glad he was finally alone.

He'd done some serious thinking that day. More than he was honestly comfortable with. But he had made a decision. He would give a relationship with Momo a chance. He wasn't a coward and a little thing like the uncertainty of change wasn't going to keep him from trying something new. His father would just have to deal with the fact that his son was dating another boy. Ryoma was actually sort of looking forward to the look on his face when he found out. Not that he was going to find out any time soon. Ryoma was willing to date Momo but he thought he might like it if they kept it quiet for the moment. They didn't need to shove the relationship in anybody's face.

Starting to feel better now that he had a decision made, Ryoma thought about going to find Momo immediately to tell him, but then thought better of it. Maybe he'd wait until tomorrow. And that was when he started to hear the music. A soft piano medley.

“Shit,” Ryoma cursed—he'd really been starting to think that the singing was over—and that was all he could say before he was singing, “Doing everything that I belieeeve in,” he sang softly against his will, “going by the rules that I've been taaaa-aa-aaught. No understandiiing of what's around meeeee and protected from the walls of love.” Hearing that, Ryoma had to agree. He'd been oblivious to love and romantic relationships his whole life. Now he was going to try and start one and it was a big change.

“All thaaat you see is meee,” he sang, putting his hands over his heart. “And all I trulyyy believe that I was born to try. I've learned to loooove, be understandiiiiing and believe in liiiife. But you've gotta make choiceeeeees, be wrong or right. Sometimes you've gotta sacrifice the things you liii-ii-iike. But I was born to try.”

So there was the chance that he and Momo could break-up and no longer be friends. Was that any reason to not try something new? No.

“No point in talking about what should've been,” he sang softly, “No regretting the things that went oo-oo-ooo-oooon. Life's full of mistakes, destinies and faa-aates. Remove the clouds, look at the bigger piiiiicture. No-oo.”

The bigger picture was that Momo loved him and Ryoma might just love him back. And if he didn't then at least he wasn't that far off from loving him for sure.

“And all that you see is meeee,” putting his hands over his heart again, “And all I trulyyyy believe that I was born to try. I've learned to loooove, be understaaa-a-aaanding and believe in liiife. But you've gotta make choices, be wrong or right. Sometimes you've gotta sacrifice the things you lii-ii-iike. But I was born to try.”

Ryoma had never considered himself a coward. This was his chance to prove that to himself. From what he'd heard from other people, this relationship-thing sounded like it could be really scary. He'd have to actually trust Momo.

“All that you seeeee is me and all I truly believe. All that you see is meeeeeee and all I trulyyyyyyyy belieee-ee-eeve that I was born to try. I've learned to love, be understandiiiiiing and believe in liiii-iii-ii-ii-iiife.”

But Ryoma did trust Momo. And now he'd have to actually show that. Could he do it? Ryoma thought that maybe he could. He might as well give it a try, at least.

“But you've gotta make choiceeeeeees, be wrong or right,” he continued to sing, “Sometimes you've gotta sacrifice the things you lii-iiiiiiiike. But I was boo-oorn to tryyyy-eyy-eyyy-ohh-oh. But you've gotta make choices, be wrong or right. Sometimes you've gotta sacrifice the things you li-iiike. I was born to tryyyy.”(2) Ryoma's song slowly came to a close and he first looked around to make sure no one had seen him or heard him singing, making sure to check up above along the wall as well, but then he sat back, the barest hint of a smile touching his lips. He actually felt pretty good.

 

 

“Always On My Mind” by Elvis Presley

“Born To Try” by Delta Goodrem