Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ To Sedate ❯ Chapter 9 ( Chapter 9 )

Again, all the disclaimers apply. I don't own Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama by any means, so please don't sue me. The plot is mine, as are the characters made up by me. I really do hate making this so depressing, so I apologized in advance for that. Thank you, everyone who sent me their kind reviews, and I give special thanks to Lu who pointed some of my mistakes out quickly, and I was able to fix them. I always appreciate something like that. I do try and spell-check these things, but since I don't have a beta and my mind tends to wander, these things often slip through. Enjoy the chapter.

 

 

To Sedate- Chapter 9

 

Am I staring at death, right in the face?

 

No, not quite yet you aren't.

 

Then what is this blinding light and extraordinary pain that's here… yet, fading away?

 

I don't know.

 

I hope it'll end soon.

 

“We want to do a few tests, Fuji-san.” The doctor was telling Fuji's mother. “Your son is in a bad condition, and we need to know what sort of condition he's in, exactly. I've already got approval for x-rays and an MRI. The x-rays will help us in detecting the broken bones. If he does indeed have broken ribs, we'll need to do surgery, and there's a very good chance he has a broken leg. I don't think that his arms are anything more than bruised and scraped, but it wouldn't hurt to check. Since Fuji-kun hit his head, we'll check to see if there's normal brain activity, too.” The doctor was filling her in now, for the second time this night. Fuji had been moved out of his temporary room and into ICU. Tezuka and the rest of the Fuji family hadn't been allowed to come along, so now the doctor was briefing them all in a private waiting room. Tezuka, with permission from the entire family, was allowed to stay to hear it.

 

“What if it ends up that Shuusuke has brain damage?” She interrupted, not meaning to interrupt, but so concerned that she hadn't thought of it. “Will my son be normal again? Shuusuke would never want to live a half-life. I know that much.”

 

“There's a chance that there's minor head trauma, or perhaps something more serious. We must deal with it as it comes,” the doctor stated gravely before continuing.

 

“We'll check for internal bleeding, that bruise on his side is what I'm worried about. That indicated he most likely has some fractures of the ribs, and possibly massive internal bleeding. You see, sometimes it isn't what's on the outside that makes the condition so critical, but ruptured organs, and internal bleeding.” They all nodded. Fuji and Yumiko's eyes were red, but they hadn't been crying for a while. Meanwhile, Yuuta sniffed in a corner, trying to keep himself from doing so. They were all so worried, despite attempts at being positive. The doctor paused, and placed his hands firmly in his lap.

 

“Fuji-san, I don't want to sound morbid, but I'm not able to lie to you. You deserve to know the truth. This is probably up your son, whether or not he lives, I mean. He's injured to the point where there's only so much we're able to do for him. I think you should count yourselves lucky that he's still alive, and that you were able to see him before then. However, in these cases, it's truly up to the victim if they survive or not. Some people just don't want to live anymore. That, or they're just already convinced that they're going to die, so they don't try at all. I've seen miracles happen, miracles that were only possible because of the will of the patient. It's amazing what willpower will do for a person.”

 

Fuji had always been a very strong person, no doubt about it. Something in Tezuka made him fear for Fuji's life, though. What always happened in movies when the main character was dying? That must be like those tragic Greek heroes they had discussed in school a few years ago. In movies, the character always ended up confessing something in the end, and with a sinking heart, Tezuka realized that the confession had been aimed at him. That was the last thing Fuji wanted to know, possibly the last words that Fuji Shuusuke would ever speak. An unimaginable pain tore through his chest at this thought.

 

A few moths back, Tezuka could easily imagine Fuji getting through this. The light-haired one, who always smiled and wasn't easily wounded, was a very tough target if one chose to try and hurt him. A person choosing to harm him without knowing the risks almost always would've found that Fuji bit back. Hard. Within a calm, smiling exterior was a strong young man that wasn't easily deceived. Slowly, though, Tezuka was forced to bear witness to the slow decay of Fuji's confidence.

 

“Please, though, never give up hope. Keep your fingers crossed. I'll do everything I can do to help your son recover, and once that happens, it's up to Fuji to do his best to get back on his feet. There's a chance it'll be a challenge. There'll probably be at least a few months of physical therapy involved, and that's saying if his injuries don't exceed physical ones.”

 

“Yes,” said Shuusuke's mother, in a hoarse tone of voice. “Thank you so much for your help, Sakamoto-sensei.” The doctor left, and a silence settled over them all. Obviously, they were all still trying to cope with the fact that the one they cared for so much might be dead very soon, and that there wasn't anything they would be able to do in order to prevent it. All in the room bowed their heads low in respect. All Tezuka could do is pray that he and the rest of the Seigaku regular wouldn't be visiting Fuji's grave in the end.

 

“I need to get back up to ICU. Thank you very much for your time, Fuji-san.”

 

“Thank you for everything you've done, Sakamoto-sensei.” They all exited the room they'd been sitting in and went their separate ways. Now it was getting late, the hospital was getting emptier. The emergency ward had been packed, but this was the treatment side. Most people visiting had gone home for the night, and the nurse and doctors were attending to patients. Though it was far past dinner time, Tezuka didn't have very much of an appetite, and he was almost glad that he didn't.

 

“Tezuka-kun, if you aren't getting any sort of ride home, I'll drive you if you need it,” was the offer that Fuji's mother made next.

 

“No, my mother's going to pick me up soon. Thank you for the offer though, Fuji-san.” His voice was cordial, yet distant. His tone confirmed his mood. With his eyes forcibly downcast, and a dark expression brewing on his face, one was able to tell what sort of thoughts were running through his head at the moment. Tezuka had to collapse at this one moment, breathing for air. At all other times, people relied on him, as a captain, to remain strong and never show any sort of weakness. After all this, he'd fallen into the habit and spent so much energy on trying to keep a straight face, while letting Fuji's mother cry on his shoulder, that he was emotionally exhausted. A teenager in junior high could only take so much.

 

“Then I can at least wait for you until your mother picks you up, Tezuka-kun.”

 

“You don't have to,” Tezuka said. “I don't want to be a burden.”

 

“Nonsense, you aren't causing any trouble. Besides,” she paused for a moment and brushed a few strands out of her face. “After all this, I know that Shuusuke would want that you had somebody to stay with until you were picked up.” In the midst of it all, she must've forgotten her own weariness, all in such intense focus on her son. She put took Tezuka's hand and clasped it for a moment. Perhaps the gesture was out of place, and not very much welcomed, but she soon enough let go.

 

“You're a very kind young man, and I'm glad you were here tonight, Tezuka-kun,” she said, with an odd sort of finality. “I want you always to remember to be sure of the choices you make. Don't waste away on life just because you're in pain from something. Live it to the fullest and never put your mother through what I've had to go through tonight. Nobody on earth, no matter how horrid, deserves that.” There was a final pause. “A mother shouldn't have to bury her child, don't you think?” That was a very pensive remark, but Tezuka could tell the significance behind it, the wish begging the deities above that her son would be spared from a common, yet undesired fate. There was a sob. “A mother never wants to bury her own child, trust me. She… loves her son far too much to ever be able to have the strength to do it.”

 

“No, Fuji-san, I don't think that-“

 

“Kunimitsu,” a voice called across the lobby towards him. His mother made her way towards him, holding an umbrella with her hair slightly wet. “Sweetie, I hope you're doing alright?” The women fussed slightly over her son, probably due to the fact she had been worried. Had it not been for the fact that his friend was in the hospital, she would've brought him home sooner.

 

“I'm fine.” His remark seemed almost a little too emotionless, even for Tezuka. Frowning slightly at the flat reply, she turned to the woman standing next to Tezuka.

 

“You must be Fuji-kun's mother. Thank you so much for allowing my son to stay.” She smiled genuinely at her. “How is Fuji-kun doing?” It might have been expected that Fuji's mother would've been more upset, but now she seemed to have a firm grip on herself, and didn't fail in putting on the trademark “Fuji smile.” Tezuka's mother, not having known the two wouldn't have worried, but with all that had been happening with Fuji as of late, it sent up a red flag in Tezuka Kunimitsu's brain.

 

“He's doing great. I am very glad your son was able to stay with us. He truly is a remarkable boy.” Tezuka stood there along with Yumiko and Yuuta as the two women made polite, almost rehearsed conversation, with both of them speaking gently before bidding farewell. Finally, Tezuka was pulled away from the Fuji family, walking towards the door.

 

“It's been raining outside, Kunimitsu,” She mentioned to him. “You know, it's just that time of year again. Would you like to hold the umbrella?” She asked, trying to get him to talk a little more. Sure, her son was a `man of few words', but he needed to make at least a little more contact. Clearly, his mind was far more occupied than it was usually, and Tezuka had a slightly morbid air about him.

 

“Sure, I will.” He took the umbrella, and they exited. Surely enough, the rain was coming in drenching sheets, and they both had to brace themselves firmly on the ground to keep from getting knocked over by the strong gusts of wind. His mother, luckily, had parked very nearby, so it wasn't a challenge. Tezuka sat on the passenger side, and Tezuka's mother started the car.

 

“Kunimitsu, I saved you some dinner,” she said softly, touching his shoulder before pulling out of the parking lot and entering the main street. “It's your favorite.” It was relatively desolate, and they were making good time back home. “I know you haven't eaten since lunch, and I hope your hungry. I don't want you to get sick, after all.” Tezuka felt the urge to shake his head, but it would've been extremely rude. His mother had probably made an extra effort into making and saving him a special dinner.

“I'm not really hungry right now. I'll bring it to school tomorrow instead so it doesn't got to waste.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he was able to see his mother purse her lips lightly in a gesture of disapproval. “No, I want you to eat tonight, Tezuka. If you don't have an appetite just eat as much as you can. It isn't good for you to be skipping meals.”

 

“Yes, mother.” She seemed appeased, and said nothing else about the manner. Tezuka was honestly exhausted, so he tilted his head until it was lightly pressed against the car window, watching the sheets of rain as they came down. He had no use fighting her, after all. Yet, it was only after that, that Tezuka suddenly had a rather unpleasant realization that he didn't have his school bag or his tennis racquet. Internally groaning, especially since he'd had his science workbook and a few notebooks in there, he noted to tell his mother as soon as they reached home.

 

His father and mother left him alone when he got home, and Tezuka, since he left his bags, supposedly in the ambulance or on the street, had no homework to do. He made up that time by sitting at the table, poking at his food. His mother had offered to heat it up for him so it wouldn't be so cold, but he'd rejected her offer and said that he'd just eat it the way it was. However, without much interest in eating, he took few bites, and those he took were only for his mother's sake. The clock on the wall showed the time growing late, and the house had fallen silent. Sure, it was always pretty quiet, but now it had the sort of late-night silence to it. His parents were probably in bed by now, and he should be, too. After all, he had school in the morning, and there was absolutely no sense in losing sleep so that he would be tired.

 

There was silence, and Tezuka stood, putting the food away in the refrigerator for the next morning in case he was hungry. Tezuka didn't feel like that. With nobody motivating him to do so, Tezuka went off to be, feeling a wave of fatigue hit him. Usually, it took Tezuka some time to fall asleep, but today he was asleep just a second after he was in bed.

 

His brow furrowed as a scene developed before him, slowly gathering details like the beginning of a painting, the colors gradually growing more vivid and real. Usually, Tezuka never dreamt, to be perfectly honest. Well, as psychologists would take that literally, he did dream, he just didn't remember those dreams. That, or he didn't care enough to try and think about them. Tonight it was especially vivid, though, so much that Tezuka was able to feel the ground beneath his feet, and the gentle changes in atmosphere as a nice, cool breeze subsided and peaked.

 

Now of course, he knew what people meant by dreams feeling real. Almost always, Tezuka was able to tell if he was having a dream, and since he didn't care so much about what he did in his dreams, the ones he ended up having were always boring, enough to make him not care for them much at all. Life was far more interesting than dreams.

 

“Kunimitsu,” a soft, gentle voice carried by the breeze met his ears, and automatically assumed it was his mother. Perhaps it was a little low-pitched for her voice, but it wasn't exactly his father's deep, resonating tone, either. Yet Fuji's bright, smiling face made its way across his vision, as if it had been blown there by a gust of wind by accident.

 

“What is it, Fuji-kun?” His tone was casual, yet there was added stress on the last name and the honorific, as if to correct a young child for a mistake. The smiling Fuji didn't say anything, but fell to his pace, walking by his side, with their footsteps exactly matched. Fuji clung to his arm as a woman might have, and Tezuka felt the urge to shake him off. This behavior, annoying, and just a little different than Fuji would've acted, made his wary, and he pulled his arm free of Fuji's squeezing grasp.

 

“Kunimitsu, why do you pull away from me?” His voice wasn't playful, like Fuji's would've been if he had been joking. Tezuka raised an eyebrow. Why shouldn't he be pulling away from him? Tezuka had every right in the world to do so, after all. Fuji pouted at his expression, though, and Tezuka frowned deeply. His own name was beginning to sound annoying, and Tezuka winced at the sound of it.

 

“Why don't you call me Tezuka?” Asked the man, tersely.

 

“I've never known you to be one to joke,” said Fuji in a quick reply, furthering Tezuka's confusion. Fuji, at this point, was frustrating him more than he ever had at this point, though it was saying something since Fuji could be purposefully teasing at times. “Come on, silly, don't your remember?” he questioned.

 

“Remember what?” he inquired, in a rather clueless manner.

 

“We've been married for three years, Kunimitsu!” He giggled in a completely un-Fuji like manner and finished by clinging to his arm once again. Tezuka usually was able to keep his cool with Fuji, but the sudden wave of confusion at the idea of them being married made his eyebrow twitch. He wasn't ready to be married yet, especially with another man! He was only fifteen! Why, his mother would be having a fit right now at the very concept.

 

“Fuji, I don't think we're married,” he said, his voice stern, telling Fuji that the joke was over and it was time to start acting normally again. He expected Fuji to finally take a hint, but he didn't seem to at all. This time, it was the prodigy's turn to frown, the expression cutting through the lovely, shining smile.

 

“Have you hit your head or something?” he asked, pressing his fingertips to Tezuka's forehead as if to check of Tezuka had a fever or something. Letting out a pensive sigh, his fingertips skimmed Tezuka's skin and moved downwards, across his cheek and down his neck. The cool touch made Tezuka shiver, and he realized Fuji was looking at him with open eyes. “Tell you what, Kunimitsu, I'll take you out to dinner. Maybe then you'll remember? Okay, sweetheart?” The usage was so serious that Tezuka felt a bitter taste come up in his mouth. This was even worse than his teasing usage of his title as captain. It was like a sweetened poison, so sweet that Tezuka spit it out because it tasted artificial.

 

Fuji bounded ahead of him for a minute, locks of hair bouncing up and down while Fuji skipped and hummed a cheerful tune under his breath. Was this the real Fuji? Tezuka was getting a headache, and he wasn't able to clearly tell anymore. If this was the real Fuji, Tezuka liked the imaginary one better. Maybe Fuji was just some sort of talking mirage, and he would go away soon. Alas, though, he wasn't in a desert. Something stopped Fuji dead ahead of him, and suddenly, the boy turned back to him, expression cold and eyes wide open.

 

“Tell me something, Kunimitsu?” his voice was venomously pleasant.

 

“What?” Tezuka was too annoyed to say anything else. Suddenly, he felt Fuji's cold hand close over his throat, and they were nose to nose. Tezuka squirmed, but Fuji's grip was extremely strong and in order to get the hand away from his throat, he had to physically push the prodigy's wrist aside with much force involved. “Fuji, what?” He asked, slightly panicked. Occupying himself with the task of straightening his glasses, he took a chance to take a deep breath and recollect his courage.

 

“You're my husband! Call me Shuusuke!” He shouted, eyes narrowing. No, no, this wasn't like Fuji at all. What was wrong? What, or who, was making Fuji do this? This joke wasn't funny anymore, and Tezuka believed that Fuji had a sick mind if he still believed that this was at all laughable. There was a well-aimed punch, centered towards his nose. Just in time, out of pure instinct, Tezuka stepped aside, parried, and countered. His counter punch stopped millimeters from Fuji's face, held back by old morals and rules. “You said you loved me, traitor.” Traitor? Who had Tezuka betrayed? He'd never told Fuji that he'd loved him. Biting his lips, Tezuka knew that he needed to speak out against what was happening before anything serous happened.

 

“This isn't funny anymore,” he said, dead serious, sounding calm yet really beginning to panic on the inside about what Fuji was saying. “The joke's over.” Fuji looked as if angrier by this, and Tezuka stopped what he was saying so as not to anger Fuji more. Was he on something?

 

“Then why did you kill me?” Fuji was just being contradictory. If Fuji were dead, he wouldn't be standing right there. “You thought that you had gotten rid of me, so you relaxed. I came back though, Kunimitsu. I'll kill you for taking my life, and lying like you did.”

 

“Fuji,” Tezuka warned.

 

“Shuusuke!” Fuji countered, interrupting him in the middle of his sentence. Wondering what had made Fuji so mad, he corrected himself just so he could talk, and maybe settle Fuji's anger a little bit.

 

“Shuusuke, sorry.” The name felt foreign on his tongue. “I think you're the one who's mistaken. I never said I loved you… but I'd never kill you. Are you sure you just haven't been dreaming? You're getting irrational.”

 

“I'm not the one being irrational,” Fuji replied, whipping out a knife and pressing the point experimentally on the skin of his neck, pressing lightly enough to frighten, but not to injure. Fuji could feel his pulse beating beneath the blade. “You're going to pay, for everything you've done to me.” The last thing Tezuka saw were ice blue eyes before everything went black.

 

Tezuka sat up rather suddenly in bed, breathing harder than he had in a long time, with tears collecting slightly at the corners of his eyes. Fuji… dead… revenge… knives… Even then, sitting there in bed, it took a good ten minutes for Tezuka to come to his senses and for his breathing to settle. After all, it wasn't every day that he had a nightmare. On his nightstand, a digital clock read 2:11. Groaning, Tezuka slapped a hand to his forehead before picking up his glasses from the nightstand, putting them on, and switching on the lights. He blinked, his eyes not used to such intense light, since his pupils were almost fully dilated. He gave a few moments for his eyes to adjust, and to allow the burning sensation to fade, before opening them fully again.

 

It hadn't been Fuji, he told himself, but it still took a while for his worries to quell. Fuji would never do something like that, would he? It was unrealistic, as Tezuka had never told Fuji that he loved him, they weren't married, and they weren't intimate enough to have ever seriously used each other's given names. He hadn't killed Fuji. It hadn't been his fault, and there was nothing that he could've done to prevent the prodigy from running out in front of that car… was there? Fuji wasn't even dead, and besides that, even if Fuji were dead, people only came back to life like that in horror movies. All these reassurances didn't seem to do Tezuka well, despite everything else.

 

His mind, though, wouldn't keep from running wild, and it was probably because of the fact that he felt like he didn't know the real Fuji anymore. He could've gone through three years of junior high, and Fuji could've been living lies. How did he know who the real Fuji was? But… he protested to himself… he could at least say that the pitiful version of the boy he'd seen lately was not Fuji. Tezuka liked to think that, even though deep down he knew that there was a chance that this was the real Fuji, and it had just taken a long time for the depressed personality to come out.

 

“You need to stop worrying,” he told himself, brushing some bangs out of his eyes. Yet, Tezuka wasn't able to clear his mind effectively, and by the time he was able to sleep, there was only enough time for a half an hour of rest before he needed to get ready for school. The shrill alarm clock woke him before he got out of bed and switched it off, more tired than he'd been in a very long time. Gathering his things, with his hair even messier than usual, he made his way on what seemed like an extremely long trip to school, which seemed oddly empty to know that there would be no Fuji at school to greet him.

 

Although Tezuka had been awake early, he struggled to get ready, lagging, tired, and devoid of any and all energy. He didn't even have time to say good-bye to his mother before heading out the door to school.

 

He was walking to school today instead of taking public transit, just so that he could think things out. The crowd passed him up, as he was walking rather slowly. After turning onto a side street, the crowd lessened, and the pace of the people around him slowed. A cat mewled at him, darting out of an alleyway. The cat must've been a stray, since it's visible ribs and tiny body suggested a poor diet. The cat, with a dirty white coat and striking blue eyes, looked uncannily like it was staring at him, through orbs that resembled Fuji's very much.

 

Mewing again, the cat was enjoying weaving itself between his legs of few times, and purring so loud that Tezuka was able to hear it. The cat looked like it was enjoying itself so much that he didn't really have any reason to shoo it away. The cat perched itself upon a wall up ahead, and Tezuka cautiously scratched it under the chin. Really, he didn't have time to be stopping and doing things like this, but the feline seemed satisfied by the small show of affection, and leapt down onto the ground afterwards.

 

The cat skittered ahead of him, letting off a few meows before falling silent once again, but it always kept extremely close to him, and only wandered off when he finally met a large crowd again. Tezuka was soon to disregard the stray cat. After all, it wasn't as if the cat was going to follow him again.

 

“Hey, Tezuka-buchou, do you know where Fujiko is?” Eiji was asking him once he had arrived at school a few minutes later. Eiji was keeping awfully close to him, as if he was worried about something. Fuji's teachers had been informed, and it was probably in a few newspapers, but Tezuka remembered that Eiji probably didn't read newspapers, and hadn't even realized what had happened yesterday. Tezuka, though, wasn't in the mood to explain to Eiji although he knew the boy would have to know. With gentle eyes and a concerned look, he touched Tezuka's shoulder lightly. “He might just be sick today, and I probably shouldn't be asking you, but I have a feeling you know.” Sometimes, Eiji's instincts were surprisingly sharper than one could ever imagine. Tezuka was impressed.

 

“Come up to the school roof with me. I'll explain there,” he said, heading in that direction and expecting Eiji would follow. The boy's eyes widened slightly, and he trailed after Tezuka quickly. They were here in a hallway. They needed to be alone. Here, it was too crowded. If someone heard, there would be rumors spreading around school, and that was the very last thing Fuji would need.

 

“Tezuka-buchou? Wait! What happened?” Eiji's voice was a little worried now, and he was able to pick up Tezuka's concern once the crowd began to thin. Tezuka, pretty out-of-character, sighed.

 

“There was an accident,” Tezuka said, eventually. Eiji's broke over his as an interruption, panicked about his best friend. The normal energy that surrounded him suddenly turned shallow, and he was extremely worried.

 

“Tezuka, what? I want to know!” His voice held every hint of seriousness, and something had died within his gaze. At the end of his question, his voice cracked a little bit, hinting at internal turmoil. Eiji probably wouldn't have been able to hold it back. Unlike Fuji, he didn't hide emotions well.

 

“Fuji was hit by a car yesterday.” Eiji's eyes were the size of dinner plates. “He's in the hospital right now… in critical condition. The doctor says…” Tezuka paused, wondering if he should add in the fact or not. Well, Eiji would know eventually, so maybe it was better if he told him as soon as possible. “The doctor says that Fuji's in such bad condition that he isn't sure if he's going to make it or not.” Eiji gave a cry, and before Tezuka could pull away, Eiji's arms were latched firmly around him, and his head was buried in Tezuka's shirt. Eiji was shaking, and Tezuka sensed he was close to tears.

 

“Why… Tezuka-buchou? Why did it have to be Fuji-kun?” Tezuka hadn't expected Eiji to react like this; sure, he was an emotional person, but even through that brew of emotions, Eiji had suddenly panicked and was on the verge of tears. Raising an eyebrow, Tezuka said nothing, as he felt a few tears soak his shirt. “I knew it. I knew something had happened! I just got this bad feeling about him yesterday and… I didn't want to think something had happened! I was so worried about him and I just thought that he'd be okay! Oh, I don't want Fujiko do die!” It was all said so fast that Tezuka could barely hear any of it, and his last sentence ended in a wail. Nevertheless, the words hit Tezuka hard, and he bit his lip harshly. He didn't want Fuji to die either, but did Eiji really have to say it? The words sounded so harsh upon his ears, perhaps because he was trying to cling to the last of his naïve thoughts on this situation. Eiji's knees gave out without warning, and his arms were wrapped so tightly around Tezuka that the captain was dragged down with him.

 

“Tezuka, this is so unfair! Fuji doesn't deserve it. He doesn't!” Eiji's head turned a few times, confused. His eyes were wide and blinking for a moment, along with his breath, which was harsh and forced.

 

“Calm down a little,” he was telling Eiji, without much hope for success. Eiji's gripped tightened around him to a painful degree before loosening a minute later. This went on in a cycle, tight, loose, tight, and loose… Tezuka was caught within it all, trying to find something to say. Oishi would've done such a better job at this.

 

That was it! Oishi could help. He new Eiji better than most people did.

 

“Eiji…” started Tezuka tensely, slightly choked for air because of Eiji's suffocating hold. “Would you like me to get Oishi for you?” Against his chest, Eiji shook his head rapidly, making Tezuka hesitate slightly in the idea of pulling away from him, keeping his distance. This wasn't very fair of Eiji to be acting so angrily towards him when Tezuka had only done what Eiji had asked him to, tell him what happened to Fuji.

 

“No!” his voice sounded like it was filled with anger and spite, yet really it was only the deep sadness. Eiji had never lost anybody before, so dealing with the very idea of it was painful, because obviously, Eiji was convinced that the doctor's prognosis meant that Fuji was going to die for sure. Frankly, Tezuka didn't really want to be here anymore. Eiji's sorrow was contagious. “I only want Fuji!” His phrase sounded like that of a young child's, yet it brought a solid reminder to Tezuka that they weren't adults. They were still young. Was Fuji's change of character contagious? Tezuka thought that nobody was really acting like themselves as of late, and that Fuji might have had something to do with that. Tezuka's eyes slid shut, and he let Eiji cry for a while, the choked sobs being the only sound that could be heard for a ways. He should've felt sorry because Eiji was going through a lot of pain, but Tezuka was feeling a different sort of sorrow. Now he was beginning to get more and more morbid, and slowly, his success at putting up a mask, without emotions, was beginning slowly to diminish little by little. Why was Eiji doing this to him? Surely, he knew Tezuka was about to break down, too.

 

“No, no, no, no…” muttered Eiji under his breath. Slowly, the boy was regaining slight control again, but the process was slow and painful. Yet, their time was running out. They'd both need to be to class very soon, or they would be both in a lot of trouble. “Tezuka, why?” Tezuka didn't answer, because he believed that Eiji's question was rhetorical. Slowly, the redhead's sobs quieted, fading as fast as they had appeared.

 

“Eiji?” he asked hesitantly, later. “It's almost time for class to begin. Would you like me to walk you there?” The redhead stood suddenly, releasing Tezuka from his grip so suddenly that Tezuka, whom had been in a crouch, fell back with a small noise of surprise. Eiji's gaze softened at him, and a silence passed in which Eiji took a lot of time to do his best to wipe his eyes free of tears. He still sniffled though, even when he did accomplish the feat of stopping the tears. Tezuka stood, brushing some of the dust of his school pants.

 

“Tezuka…” Eiji paused for a moment, as if finding words for what he was trying to say. “Thank you for telling me what happened to Fuji. I… needed to know.” He turned his back to Tezuka, head turned upwards towards the sky. “I can walk myself to class.” These were probably some of the most mature things he'd ever said in his three years of being at Seshun Gakuen. Still sniffling a little bit, he turned and left without so much as a farewell. Tezuka felt empty not having heard his usual cheerful farewell, something along the lines of `see you later, nya!'

 

“Tezuka,” an invisible Fuji-voice seemed to speak to him, though literally it was his inner conscious. “You need to be strong now. Be a good captain and make sure all your team members are doing well. You may be graduating soon, but it doesn't mean that you can forget that the Seigaku tennis team needs to stick together in times of hardship. Tezuka wanted to argue with the voice. It was so hard to do it when already; he had so many things going through his head. Who in their right minds was able to have a million people cry on his shoulder without breaking down himself, especially because of the fact that Fuji's injury had taken such a toll on him already. “Be strong, Tezuka Kunimitsu,” said the voice, loud enough that it wasn't easy to ignore. The voice set afire questions that had been floating in his head, and for once, Tezuka covered his ears in hopes that he wouldn't hear the voice again.

 

Tired and weary, he made his way to the classroom. The hallways had quieted down and the crowd thinned since the bell was going to ring soon. Tezuka, far from his classroom, would have to hurry if he wanted to avoid trouble and not miss the class bow. Was this the sort of luck Fuji had before the accident? Was this why he was so miserable? If he was, Tezuka was beginning to comprehend why Fuji acted the way he did. What had been happening shouldn't have been wearing on him, yet oddly enough, it did.

 

He'd have to tell the rest of the members after school. Maybe if the doctors allowed it, they could all go visit him that week. That was… if there was any Fuji left to visit. In an almost business-like manner, Tezuka pushed those thoughts aside and pushed the sliding door to his classroom and stepped inside, apologizing to his teacher for his lateness. “Tezuka-kun,” the man said. “Did you lose your bags, yesterday?” He held them both up. Whoever had found them must've returned them, and Tezuka should be grateful he put his names on things in case they were to ever get lost.

 

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Taking the bags and avoiding the looks everyone in his class was giving him because of his lateness, he took his seat.

 

There was quiet, deafeningly so. When the teacher spoke, Tezuka had to strain his ears to hear. Though he'd made his resolution that he wasn't going to let it affect him, and that he wasn't going to let it affect his schoolwork, the lack of sleep, and extreme stress were beginning to take their toll on Tezuka. He was restless. He wanted to get out of this classroom. He wanted to go home.

 

Sometimes, there wasn't anything left to do but wait. The student in front of him passed back the page to a test, and methodically he took one from the pile and passed the rest to the girl behind him. His thoughts retreated to the stray cat, the one that had reminded him so much of Fuji because of it's eyes. Where was it now? It shouldn't have mattered, but Tezuka was genuinely curious. The creature was probably around a garbage can, somewhere in the city, chasing rats and wandering aimlessly. The thing's life must've been pretty boring, and hard. Here he was, thinking he was in a tough situation, when that little feline lived out in the world, alone and exposed to all sorts of dangers.

 

Now Tezuka was surprised by his own thoughts, especially since he'd never been very fond of animals at all. He shouldn't have cared what happened to that little cat, yet somehow… he did.

 

Sometimes there wasn't anything left to do but wait….

 

Yet sometimes, it was so hard to wait.

 

 

I have some more random notes to make at the end of this. As always, if you know more about human anatomy than I do, and you see me make a mistake about something, please point it out. That's the only way I'm able to learn.

 

This was a pretty long chapter. I wish that I could update it this weekend, but I was pushing to finish this one by Friday, since I'll be gone at a convention on the weekend. It shouldn't stop me from updating sometime next week, though.

 

Other random notes:

I don't like how I make everyone so out of character… I need to make a point to fix those sorts of things.

 

On an absolutely random note, cats with white coats and blue eyes are almost always deaf. Yes, pretty to look at, but deaf. I could go on and on about the kitty facts, since my veterinary science project last summer was on felines. So far this doesn't really have any significance to the story, just to clear things up. Maybe it will, later.

 

Something I did mean to comment on after last chapter was the fact that Zhivago's name isn't mine. “Zhivago” is a name I used probably because I couldn't think of anything else. This is taken from the movie named “Doctor Zhivago”, a movie set during the Russian revolution. I've never seen this movie… I've just heard it's one of my mother's favorites. So yeah, the name isn't very original.