Break my Chains, 2/6?
Title: Break my Chains, 2/6?
Rating: PG-13ish?
Genre: Jail fic! Angsty romance
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji
Summary: Tezuka has to pay his debt to society. So does Fuji.
Word count: 2730
Warnings: AU, minor character death, cute guys being tortured and such
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed, blah.
“Why did they take the other man too?”
“What did you expected? We are in prison, Tezuka. They always find a reason to punish you” Fuji stated in a low voice, returning his attention to the food.
“I see,” said Tezuka, leaving Fuji with his own thoughts.
“You’re sharing cells with the infamous Tezuka Kunimitsu, aren’t you Fuji?” stated a man sitting beside them.
“It seems that way,” Fuji answered, introducing him and his company to Tezuka.
Tezuka issued a shy ‘hi’ and the other saluted back.
“Who do you think’ll have to lose against Tezuka this Friday?” asked another inmate.
“I’m not sure. I believe the guards will want me to do it, but we’ll have to wait till the results are definitive,” Fuji answered, ignoring Tezuka’s inquisitive gaze.
Fuji’s conversation with the other prisoners continued and Tezuka found no answer to his questions. Looking around, Tezuka noticed that two of the inmates were too busy with each other to pay attention to the discussion; they were whispering and sometimes even holding hands. Tezuka stared long enough for Fuji to notice and poke him in the ribs.
“Don’t be so obvious, Tezuka. One would think you’ve never seen two men in love,” taunted Fuji.
“I-,” he let out a sharp sigh, “I wasn’t staring,” he tried to excuse himself while fighting a blush.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Fuji whispered on Tezuka's ear, not helping with his blush. “Besides, what else did you expect? We’re here every day, all day, we’re bound to find love among us. Or at least something resembling to love, don’t you think?”
Tezuka knew when he was being lured to a trap, but he answered anyway. “You’re right.”
“Come on,” Fuji said, standing up.
“Where?”
“I’ll show you around. We still have some time before lockup time.”
* * *
After a short walk, an alarm started ringing announcing they had to go back to their cells. Tezuka went to the sink in the corner of the cell to wash his face and brush his teeth. Fuji lay on his bed to read, so Tezuka decided not to interrupt him. He went to his bed and sat down taking a look to his surroundings. His gaze stopped on the other man. Seeing he was absorbed on the book, Tezuka decided his eyes could rest on Fuji for a while.
“You’re staring again,” said Fuji sweetly, never taking his eyes away from the book. “Do you need something?”
“No,” he answered quickly, diverting his gaze.
“Come on, tell me,” this time Fuji’s eyes were locked on Tezuka’s.
“I was thinking.”
“About the punishments?”
“Yes. And the convicts.”
“What about them?”
“They seemed divided.”
“Oh, you mean the gangs,” Fuji left his book on his side and sat down. “Tezuka, this is not a normal prison, people who end up here is because they did really bad things.” Tezuka was listening carefully. “Almost everybody here was member of a group before being imprisoned. That man in isolation, for example, he is a member of the Yakuza. He has a lot of friends here, all members of the mafia, and they practically rule the jail. But they are not the only ones, the Koreans have their own gang, the Chinese, the Buddhist… They stick together, protect each other from the other gangs.
“Protect themselves…”
“In a very violent, often bloody kind of way, yes. But they also help you, if you pay them well enough. Anything you want, you can buy it from the Yakuza. Drugs, food, even prostitutes. And revenge. Specially revenge.”
“How do they do that?”
“They are in charge of the kitchen, that’s how they sell food. Prostitutes, well, they have contacts outside. You just ask for a conjugal visit and the get you the girl. And drugs, I really have no idea how they get them inside. My guess is they have help from the guards. They’re probably paying big money for the contraband.”
“That doesn’t seem right.”
“People don’t know much about this place, they even say the government doesn’t interfere, so guards get away with anything they want. We are in hell.” Fuji paused to see Tezuka’s reaction. He was listening carefully, and a thousand questions rushed to his mind, but he said nothing, he wanted Fuji to finish talking before asking. “These inmates are savage; guards tell there used to be a murder almost every week. To keep the inmates calm they came up with the ‘no free time’ policy, so we are doing something almost every hour of the day. Some of them are even drugged to keep them calmed.”
“I see. Fuji, about the punishment…”
“Oh, right,” Fuji answered sweetly. “Haven’t you figured it out by now, Tezuka?”
“I have my suspicions, I’m waiting for confirmation.”
“Like I said, the guards here get away with anything,” said Fuji, “so if a convict wants to… let’s say ‘punish’ another convict, all they have to do is pay the guards.”
“The guards do the punishment?”
“Sometimes. But on occasions they just help.”
“How?”
“They conveniently lock a door, leaving the punished without backup, or they forget to lock a cell so anyone can get in and out. Stuff like that. But they also have special punishments for special actions. Starting a fight wins you the isolation cell.”
“I see,” said Tezuka, looking suspiciously at Fuji. He knew there was something the other man wasn’t telling him.
“Just try to stay out of trouble, will you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re new. And you’re famous. People will want to pick up fights with you, beat the great Tezuka Kunimitsu.”
“That won’t happen,” assured Tezuka, but his voice wasn’t agreeing with the statement.
“I hope so. I’d hate to see you hurt,” Fuji said, ending the conversation. He remained silent for the rest of the night.
Tezuka asked Fuji for a book and tried to read to keep his mind away from unpleasant thoughts. He failed miserably. Even ‘The Little Prince’ was not able to keep his mind from drifting away to his wretched reality. He even tried to focus his attention in analyzing the irony of Fuji having a children’s book in jail, but then again, that wasn’t really a children’s book.
Tezuka’s first night in jail was awful. He couldn’t sleep, he kept hearing noises coming from the other cells and images of the blood kept invading his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t have done what he did. Now, not only Tezuka was fighting for his freedom, but his friend was fighting for his life somewhere, far away from him. Tezuka never regretted anything in his life, but this was something he couldn’t live with and if Atobe died, he’d never be able to live with himself.
A few days passed and everything was calm. There were no big fights and no more threats to the new prisoners. Tezuka adapted to the jail routine just fine. They got up early in the morning -at 6 a.m.-, and took a five minutes shower, after that they had to clean up the cell, throw out the dirty sheets and leave everything sparkling. Then they went down to have breakfast at 6:30 and the morning study session began right after eating, at 7 o’clock. They got to spend a few hours in the prison classroom, which had a few books and notebooks the inmates could use. They would usually write letters to family members, play card games or just seat quietly and enjoy reading The Tale of Genji one too many times. Once in a while, a social worker gathered them in the classroom and tried to teach the inmates, but none of them paid attention.
The jail provided religious services. There was a priest available for them all day, who directed a daily prayer. Assistance was mandatory. After the prayer, the inmates had to take turns confessing to the priest at least once a month. Confession was also mandatory.
Lunch was at noon and from 1 to 3 p.m., they had community service. Groups of twenty inmates rotated the different jobs available. During Tezuka’s first week, he and Fuji were assigned to paint the walls. According to Fuji, the activities ranged between laundry, mopping the halls and showers, and on occasions cleaning the kitchen and doing the dishes, whenever the Yakuza allowed. They even kept a small garden and every few weeks, when the weather allowed, they grew different kinds of vegetables.
At 3 p.m. inmates were allowed to engage in different activities. The great hall had all kind of board games and three different TVs they could use. From 5 to 7 they had jogging time, but sometimes a guard lent them a ball and they could play something rather than run. Dinner was at 7 and after that, they went back to their cells. Lights had to go out at 10 and they had to remain silent for the rest of the night.
Tezuka’s sentence was still pending and he had been on Good Samaritan Prison House for almost a week. Friday, Fuji had said, was the most interesting day of the week and Tezuka was about to live it for the first time. He wasn’t anxious, but he did have a little curiosity of this ‘reward system’ his cellmates kept talking about. Fuji had said something that made him a bit uneasy. According to him, all new inmates had to make a debut and it was Tezuka’s turn this week. Fuji wasn’t very clear on what he meant, so Tezuka had to wait and see.
A guard came to pick them up that Friday at 5, like always, to take them to the yard. This time no one was running. Some of the inmates were standing and some were sitting, but all surrounding what they sometimes used as a court in the front yard. Two guards were setting what appeared to be a tennis net in the middle of the improvised court. They were going to play.
Inmates were like crazy, yelling and making noise any way they could. When the net was ready, a guard stood in the middle of the field and announced the players. Against all odds, it wasn’t Fuji who had to play against Tezuka, it was the huge, bald man. When he was named, the noise became almost deafening.
After the game, Fuji explained that during the week the jailors collected the inmates’ votes for a player and on Fridays the most voted had to play against each other. Before the match, inmates placed their bets. The jailors kept a part of the money they collected and the other part was sorted among the winners.
A jailor handed each player a rusty, old racket and waited until the audience was quiet to continue the announcements. The bets were even. Half the inmates were rooting for Tezuka, and the other half was confiding in the Yakuza member. And then, the game began.
It was a rather easy match, Tezuka won shortly. The public went mad, some screaming and applauding the victory, some cursing the lost. Only a few men stood quietly in the yard looking straight at Tezuka. They walked and surrounded the loser when a guard approached them.
“I’m sorry guys, you know the rules,” he said, cuffing the bald man and taking him away. The hate gaze returned and Tezuka wanted to get away.
Later he learnt the loser was to be punished, Fuji wasn’t very clear how. That night his former opponent was not in his cell and Tezuka didn’t see him until Saturday evening. When he returned he was paler than usual and was limping a little. Tezuka tried to get some information out of Fuji, but he was evasive and all the others he asked gave inconclusive answers. In the end he was left with little information and a lot deal of concern.
When they finished eating, Fuji went to the bathroom and Tezuka headed to take a short walk before the alarm. Outside the dining room five men surrounded him and one of them pushed him hard against the wall, his hand grabbing Tezuka’s neck.
“You’re gonna regret winning that match, boy,” said the man tightening his grip.
“Yamaguchi, let him go!” screamed a guard, appearing from behind.
“Consider yourself warned,” he said, stepping away, the others following him.
Tezuka walked quickly back to his cell, his hands tracing his sore neck.
“Tezuka, what’s wrong? You seem a little pale,”
“Nothing, I’m fine,”
“I see,” Fuji said, comprehension dawning on his voice. “Did they hurt you?”
“No. they just warned me,” Tezuka waited for Fuji’s comfort words, but none came.
* * *
On Monday afternoon Tezuka’s lawyer showed up at the prison. It wasn’t a long visit, he just needed to inform that Atobe had died the day before and Tezuka's sentence was going to take a little longer than expected. This was like a bucket of cold water on him. He really was expecting for his friend to get better so he could get out of there as soon as possible. His mood worsened and he was even less verbal than before.
Fuji noticed and he tried to lighten the dark atmosphere but, after seeing that even jogging time wasn’t able to improve Tezuka’s mood, he gave up. “What’s bothering you?” he finally asked, back in their cell, after sometime of consideration.
“Nothing,” snapped Tezuka.
“Come on, Tezuka, you know you can trust me.”
“I know. It’s just that-,” Tezuka exhaled a breath he didn’t even notice he was holding. “It’s Atobe.”
“Your friend?” said Fuji, unsure of his word choice. “What happened to him?”
“He died.”
“Oh,” Fuji stood up, sat next to Tezuka and held his hand. He was a little surprised, but didn’t remove his hand from Fuji’s contact. “I’m really sorry. That’s going to be bad for your verdict.”
“Yes.”
“What really happened between you two, Tezuka?”
“You saw it on the news.”
“I’m not very fond of the media, they usually distort information to please the public. Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t harm another human being on purpose.”
“Does it matter? He’s dead.”
“He meant a lot to you,” that wasn’t a question.
“We’ve come a long way.”
“Why don’t you tell me the truth?”
“I killed him,” Tezuka whispered, tightening his grip on Fuji’s hand. “What else do you need to know?”
“The truth.”
“That is the truth,” Tezuka sighed again.
“You want to be punished,” Fuji said, more to himself, “I can see it in our eyes, Tezuka, you know it was an accident.”
“Maybe.”
“Why did you plead guilty, then?”
“Because I did it. I should’ve known it was going to happen.”
“That wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“You don’t know that,” in the few days they’d known each other, Fuji had never seen Tezuka’s gaze so furious even though he was really trying to remain calm.
“Perhaps… but you don’t know it either, so stop blaming yourself. You could get out of here if you say it was an accident.”
“It’s too late for that. I’m getting what I deserve.”
Fuji let go of Tezuka’s hand and went to his own bed. He took the book he was reading before and refused to acknowledge Tezuka’s wondering gaze.
“I am not going to listen to you wallow in self pity anymore. When you decide to come to your senses, you know where to find me.” Fuji’s smile was gone. His eyes were wide open and, even though his voice was as calm as always, Tezuka could feel his rage.
Suddenly, blaming himself didn’t seem as important. His grim thoughts abandoned him and all he could think about were Fuji’s blue eyes. He stood up and sat on Fuji’s bed, facing him; he took the book from his hands and put it on the floor. Fuji’s eyes were still wide open and looking directly at him. Tezuka wasn’t sure what made him do what he did, but his hand moved to Fuji’s neck and pulled him closer and closer. Their lips were about to touch, when-
“Lights out!” someone yelled. Tezuka’s grip loosened a little and after a few seconds he went back to his bed, forgetting all about the Yakuza’s threat. For the first time since he arrived to Good Samaritan Prison House, he didn’t have any nightmares.
TBC
Chapter one
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Rating: PG-13ish?
Genre: Jail fic! Angsty romance
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji
Summary: Tezuka has to pay his debt to society. So does Fuji.
Word count: 2730
Warnings: AU, minor character death, cute guys being tortured and such
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed, blah.
“Why did they take the other man too?”
“What did you expected? We are in prison, Tezuka. They always find a reason to punish you” Fuji stated in a low voice, returning his attention to the food.
“I see,” said Tezuka, leaving Fuji with his own thoughts.
“You’re sharing cells with the infamous Tezuka Kunimitsu, aren’t you Fuji?” stated a man sitting beside them.
“It seems that way,” Fuji answered, introducing him and his company to Tezuka.
Tezuka issued a shy ‘hi’ and the other saluted back.
“Who do you think’ll have to lose against Tezuka this Friday?” asked another inmate.
“I’m not sure. I believe the guards will want me to do it, but we’ll have to wait till the results are definitive,” Fuji answered, ignoring Tezuka’s inquisitive gaze.
Fuji’s conversation with the other prisoners continued and Tezuka found no answer to his questions. Looking around, Tezuka noticed that two of the inmates were too busy with each other to pay attention to the discussion; they were whispering and sometimes even holding hands. Tezuka stared long enough for Fuji to notice and poke him in the ribs.
“Don’t be so obvious, Tezuka. One would think you’ve never seen two men in love,” taunted Fuji.
“I-,” he let out a sharp sigh, “I wasn’t staring,” he tried to excuse himself while fighting a blush.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Fuji whispered on Tezuka's ear, not helping with his blush. “Besides, what else did you expect? We’re here every day, all day, we’re bound to find love among us. Or at least something resembling to love, don’t you think?”
Tezuka knew when he was being lured to a trap, but he answered anyway. “You’re right.”
“Come on,” Fuji said, standing up.
“Where?”
“I’ll show you around. We still have some time before lockup time.”
* * *
After a short walk, an alarm started ringing announcing they had to go back to their cells. Tezuka went to the sink in the corner of the cell to wash his face and brush his teeth. Fuji lay on his bed to read, so Tezuka decided not to interrupt him. He went to his bed and sat down taking a look to his surroundings. His gaze stopped on the other man. Seeing he was absorbed on the book, Tezuka decided his eyes could rest on Fuji for a while.
“You’re staring again,” said Fuji sweetly, never taking his eyes away from the book. “Do you need something?”
“No,” he answered quickly, diverting his gaze.
“Come on, tell me,” this time Fuji’s eyes were locked on Tezuka’s.
“I was thinking.”
“About the punishments?”
“Yes. And the convicts.”
“What about them?”
“They seemed divided.”
“Oh, you mean the gangs,” Fuji left his book on his side and sat down. “Tezuka, this is not a normal prison, people who end up here is because they did really bad things.” Tezuka was listening carefully. “Almost everybody here was member of a group before being imprisoned. That man in isolation, for example, he is a member of the Yakuza. He has a lot of friends here, all members of the mafia, and they practically rule the jail. But they are not the only ones, the Koreans have their own gang, the Chinese, the Buddhist… They stick together, protect each other from the other gangs.
“Protect themselves…”
“In a very violent, often bloody kind of way, yes. But they also help you, if you pay them well enough. Anything you want, you can buy it from the Yakuza. Drugs, food, even prostitutes. And revenge. Specially revenge.”
“How do they do that?”
“They are in charge of the kitchen, that’s how they sell food. Prostitutes, well, they have contacts outside. You just ask for a conjugal visit and the get you the girl. And drugs, I really have no idea how they get them inside. My guess is they have help from the guards. They’re probably paying big money for the contraband.”
“That doesn’t seem right.”
“People don’t know much about this place, they even say the government doesn’t interfere, so guards get away with anything they want. We are in hell.” Fuji paused to see Tezuka’s reaction. He was listening carefully, and a thousand questions rushed to his mind, but he said nothing, he wanted Fuji to finish talking before asking. “These inmates are savage; guards tell there used to be a murder almost every week. To keep the inmates calm they came up with the ‘no free time’ policy, so we are doing something almost every hour of the day. Some of them are even drugged to keep them calmed.”
“I see. Fuji, about the punishment…”
“Oh, right,” Fuji answered sweetly. “Haven’t you figured it out by now, Tezuka?”
“I have my suspicions, I’m waiting for confirmation.”
“Like I said, the guards here get away with anything,” said Fuji, “so if a convict wants to… let’s say ‘punish’ another convict, all they have to do is pay the guards.”
“The guards do the punishment?”
“Sometimes. But on occasions they just help.”
“How?”
“They conveniently lock a door, leaving the punished without backup, or they forget to lock a cell so anyone can get in and out. Stuff like that. But they also have special punishments for special actions. Starting a fight wins you the isolation cell.”
“I see,” said Tezuka, looking suspiciously at Fuji. He knew there was something the other man wasn’t telling him.
“Just try to stay out of trouble, will you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re new. And you’re famous. People will want to pick up fights with you, beat the great Tezuka Kunimitsu.”
“That won’t happen,” assured Tezuka, but his voice wasn’t agreeing with the statement.
“I hope so. I’d hate to see you hurt,” Fuji said, ending the conversation. He remained silent for the rest of the night.
Tezuka asked Fuji for a book and tried to read to keep his mind away from unpleasant thoughts. He failed miserably. Even ‘The Little Prince’ was not able to keep his mind from drifting away to his wretched reality. He even tried to focus his attention in analyzing the irony of Fuji having a children’s book in jail, but then again, that wasn’t really a children’s book.
Tezuka’s first night in jail was awful. He couldn’t sleep, he kept hearing noises coming from the other cells and images of the blood kept invading his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t have done what he did. Now, not only Tezuka was fighting for his freedom, but his friend was fighting for his life somewhere, far away from him. Tezuka never regretted anything in his life, but this was something he couldn’t live with and if Atobe died, he’d never be able to live with himself.
A few days passed and everything was calm. There were no big fights and no more threats to the new prisoners. Tezuka adapted to the jail routine just fine. They got up early in the morning -at 6 a.m.-, and took a five minutes shower, after that they had to clean up the cell, throw out the dirty sheets and leave everything sparkling. Then they went down to have breakfast at 6:30 and the morning study session began right after eating, at 7 o’clock. They got to spend a few hours in the prison classroom, which had a few books and notebooks the inmates could use. They would usually write letters to family members, play card games or just seat quietly and enjoy reading The Tale of Genji one too many times. Once in a while, a social worker gathered them in the classroom and tried to teach the inmates, but none of them paid attention.
The jail provided religious services. There was a priest available for them all day, who directed a daily prayer. Assistance was mandatory. After the prayer, the inmates had to take turns confessing to the priest at least once a month. Confession was also mandatory.
Lunch was at noon and from 1 to 3 p.m., they had community service. Groups of twenty inmates rotated the different jobs available. During Tezuka’s first week, he and Fuji were assigned to paint the walls. According to Fuji, the activities ranged between laundry, mopping the halls and showers, and on occasions cleaning the kitchen and doing the dishes, whenever the Yakuza allowed. They even kept a small garden and every few weeks, when the weather allowed, they grew different kinds of vegetables.
At 3 p.m. inmates were allowed to engage in different activities. The great hall had all kind of board games and three different TVs they could use. From 5 to 7 they had jogging time, but sometimes a guard lent them a ball and they could play something rather than run. Dinner was at 7 and after that, they went back to their cells. Lights had to go out at 10 and they had to remain silent for the rest of the night.
Tezuka’s sentence was still pending and he had been on Good Samaritan Prison House for almost a week. Friday, Fuji had said, was the most interesting day of the week and Tezuka was about to live it for the first time. He wasn’t anxious, but he did have a little curiosity of this ‘reward system’ his cellmates kept talking about. Fuji had said something that made him a bit uneasy. According to him, all new inmates had to make a debut and it was Tezuka’s turn this week. Fuji wasn’t very clear on what he meant, so Tezuka had to wait and see.
A guard came to pick them up that Friday at 5, like always, to take them to the yard. This time no one was running. Some of the inmates were standing and some were sitting, but all surrounding what they sometimes used as a court in the front yard. Two guards were setting what appeared to be a tennis net in the middle of the improvised court. They were going to play.
Inmates were like crazy, yelling and making noise any way they could. When the net was ready, a guard stood in the middle of the field and announced the players. Against all odds, it wasn’t Fuji who had to play against Tezuka, it was the huge, bald man. When he was named, the noise became almost deafening.
After the game, Fuji explained that during the week the jailors collected the inmates’ votes for a player and on Fridays the most voted had to play against each other. Before the match, inmates placed their bets. The jailors kept a part of the money they collected and the other part was sorted among the winners.
A jailor handed each player a rusty, old racket and waited until the audience was quiet to continue the announcements. The bets were even. Half the inmates were rooting for Tezuka, and the other half was confiding in the Yakuza member. And then, the game began.
It was a rather easy match, Tezuka won shortly. The public went mad, some screaming and applauding the victory, some cursing the lost. Only a few men stood quietly in the yard looking straight at Tezuka. They walked and surrounded the loser when a guard approached them.
“I’m sorry guys, you know the rules,” he said, cuffing the bald man and taking him away. The hate gaze returned and Tezuka wanted to get away.
Later he learnt the loser was to be punished, Fuji wasn’t very clear how. That night his former opponent was not in his cell and Tezuka didn’t see him until Saturday evening. When he returned he was paler than usual and was limping a little. Tezuka tried to get some information out of Fuji, but he was evasive and all the others he asked gave inconclusive answers. In the end he was left with little information and a lot deal of concern.
When they finished eating, Fuji went to the bathroom and Tezuka headed to take a short walk before the alarm. Outside the dining room five men surrounded him and one of them pushed him hard against the wall, his hand grabbing Tezuka’s neck.
“You’re gonna regret winning that match, boy,” said the man tightening his grip.
“Yamaguchi, let him go!” screamed a guard, appearing from behind.
“Consider yourself warned,” he said, stepping away, the others following him.
Tezuka walked quickly back to his cell, his hands tracing his sore neck.
“Tezuka, what’s wrong? You seem a little pale,”
“Nothing, I’m fine,”
“I see,” Fuji said, comprehension dawning on his voice. “Did they hurt you?”
“No. they just warned me,” Tezuka waited for Fuji’s comfort words, but none came.
* * *
On Monday afternoon Tezuka’s lawyer showed up at the prison. It wasn’t a long visit, he just needed to inform that Atobe had died the day before and Tezuka's sentence was going to take a little longer than expected. This was like a bucket of cold water on him. He really was expecting for his friend to get better so he could get out of there as soon as possible. His mood worsened and he was even less verbal than before.
Fuji noticed and he tried to lighten the dark atmosphere but, after seeing that even jogging time wasn’t able to improve Tezuka’s mood, he gave up. “What’s bothering you?” he finally asked, back in their cell, after sometime of consideration.
“Nothing,” snapped Tezuka.
“Come on, Tezuka, you know you can trust me.”
“I know. It’s just that-,” Tezuka exhaled a breath he didn’t even notice he was holding. “It’s Atobe.”
“Your friend?” said Fuji, unsure of his word choice. “What happened to him?”
“He died.”
“Oh,” Fuji stood up, sat next to Tezuka and held his hand. He was a little surprised, but didn’t remove his hand from Fuji’s contact. “I’m really sorry. That’s going to be bad for your verdict.”
“Yes.”
“What really happened between you two, Tezuka?”
“You saw it on the news.”
“I’m not very fond of the media, they usually distort information to please the public. Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t harm another human being on purpose.”
“Does it matter? He’s dead.”
“He meant a lot to you,” that wasn’t a question.
“We’ve come a long way.”
“Why don’t you tell me the truth?”
“I killed him,” Tezuka whispered, tightening his grip on Fuji’s hand. “What else do you need to know?”
“The truth.”
“That is the truth,” Tezuka sighed again.
“You want to be punished,” Fuji said, more to himself, “I can see it in our eyes, Tezuka, you know it was an accident.”
“Maybe.”
“Why did you plead guilty, then?”
“Because I did it. I should’ve known it was going to happen.”
“That wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“You don’t know that,” in the few days they’d known each other, Fuji had never seen Tezuka’s gaze so furious even though he was really trying to remain calm.
“Perhaps… but you don’t know it either, so stop blaming yourself. You could get out of here if you say it was an accident.”
“It’s too late for that. I’m getting what I deserve.”
Fuji let go of Tezuka’s hand and went to his own bed. He took the book he was reading before and refused to acknowledge Tezuka’s wondering gaze.
“I am not going to listen to you wallow in self pity anymore. When you decide to come to your senses, you know where to find me.” Fuji’s smile was gone. His eyes were wide open and, even though his voice was as calm as always, Tezuka could feel his rage.
Suddenly, blaming himself didn’t seem as important. His grim thoughts abandoned him and all he could think about were Fuji’s blue eyes. He stood up and sat on Fuji’s bed, facing him; he took the book from his hands and put it on the floor. Fuji’s eyes were still wide open and looking directly at him. Tezuka wasn’t sure what made him do what he did, but his hand moved to Fuji’s neck and pulled him closer and closer. Their lips were about to touch, when-
“Lights out!” someone yelled. Tezuka’s grip loosened a little and after a few seconds he went back to his bed, forgetting all about the Yakuza’s threat. For the first time since he arrived to Good Samaritan Prison House, he didn’t have any nightmares.
TBC
Chapter one
Chapter 3
Chapter 4