30_kisses: Theme #26: if only I could make you mine
Theme #26: if only I could make you mine
Note: continuation of Photographs aka. salaryman!Tezuka universe. :( (1,155 words)
Incense
The next time Fuji sends him a photograph, Ryoma finally snaps. He clutches the envelope between tight fingers, taking the train to Fuji's apartment block. The cigarette lighter is tucked securely in his other hand as Ryoma bangs his fist on Fuji's door.
Fuji blinks, taking off the glasses he wears when he's developing photographs from his old-fashioned cameras, and says, "Echizen." His tone makes it clear that he has no idea why Ryoma is here, and that he also doesn't have any intention of letting him inside.
Ryoma holds up the envelope, his face tight and his lips thin. Then he holds the lighter at one of the corners, and flicks it. The envelope burns alarmingly fast, the flames flickering too close to Ryoma's fingers before he lets go; the flames die to ashes by the time they hit the ground.
Ryoma stares right at Fuji, not even flinching when cold blue eyes gaze back at him.
"Enough," Ryoma says, turning and walking away without another word.
Fuji never sends him another photograph, and Ryoma eventually stops having nightmares about Tezuka being burned alive.
- - -
A year passes and, a fortnight before hanami begins, Ryoma gets a phone call from Fuji.
"What do you want?" he snaps into the phone, not even waiting for Fuji to say hello.
"Have you read the latest obituaries?" Fuji asks, deciding to be as blunt as Ryoma.
"No," Ryoma says, but nevertheless goes to read what Fuji tells him to.
His heart beats painfully in his throat when his eyes are drawn to Tezuka- For a moment he breathes too fast, trying his best to remain calm, but then the tension abruptly seeps from his shoulders when he realises the name that follows it is feminine. And then he does stop breathing for a moment.
"How did she die?" he finally asks. "Cancer, a car accident?" He tries his best not to sneer, but it would be fitting for her to die in such an overblown, melodramatic way, fitting for all three of them.
"Heart failure," Fuji replies blandly. "It was her twenty-fifth birthday tomorrow. Tezuka was planning on taking her out to dinner."
A heart attack is hardly better than a car accident or cancer, but it's the reminder that Tezuka loved her which makes Ryoma's chest hurt. He coughs several times, and then asks in a hoarse voice, "How is he?"
"I think he'd like to see you," Fuji says, in a faintly disapproving voice. "Assuming, of course, you can keep your jealousy to yourself for five minutes."
"I'm not as insensitive as my father," Ryoma bites back, glaring at the clock on the wall opposite. "I'm not him."
"Good," Fuji replies. "He never forgot you, you know. He has an entire book of your newspaper clippings and he watched your matches obsessively. Takako always wanted to meet you; she felt like she knew you already, just because you made Tezuka act in a way that no one else could."
Ryoma has to pull the receiver away from his ear for a moment so he can rub his face and try to get his breathing under control. He swallows, and then says, "All right."
"You know where he lives," Fuji says in a matter-of-fact voice before hanging up.
- - -
It's awkward as hell, but Ryoma was sort of expecting that too.
It takes him a week to summon up the courage to seek Tezuka out, following him, of all places, to the graveyard. He watches Tezuka kneel and light incense, thinking he shouldn't be here at all. This moment is too sad, too private, and far away from anything Ryoma ever had to do with Tezuka in the past.
Something makes him walk forward, regardless, and Tezuka looks up at his approach, his eyes dark and unreadable behind his glasses. "Echizen," he says softly, and Ryoma stops, suddenly fumbling and awkward, unsure of what to say and even if there is anything he can say that won't come out completely wrong.
"Hi," he finally settles on, hesitating before kneeling beside Tezuka and reaching to light another stick of incense. He bows his head to pray, aware of Tezuka's eyes on him.
I'm sorry. I'll keep him safe for you.
They remain like this in silence for several minutes, until Tezuka lets out a heavy sigh. "She came home that evening when she met you in the supermarket," he says at last. "She was so excited, and kept berating me for never inviting you over for dinner. I didn't know what to say to her."
"She was very... nice," Ryoma replies slowly, still keeping his head down. It's probably the response Tezuka had expected from him, since he smiles briefly when Ryoma catches his eye.
Tezuka bows his head. "I loved her very much."
Ryoma knows this, but he also knows that there's never going to be any response he'll be able to say to something like that, so he stays quiet and swallows. He could never hate Tezuka for loving her, as Tezuka needed someone to love and to love him back, and Ryoma wasn't the right person for that at the time, no matter what he thought and still thinks.
He's seen that love. Towards the end, though he didn't know it at the time, Fuji had started sending him pictures of Tezuka and his wife. Ryoma remembers his fingers tightening around the glossy pictures until they crumpled at the edges. He remembers throwing them away. He remembers acting so foolish.
The picture that Ryoma burned was the one of Tezuka on his wedding day, kissing his new bride.
"I'm sorry," Ryoma mutters, looking away. "My... mother wants you to come for dinner. I promise my old man won't start asking you questions. I'll hit him if he does."
Tezuka smiles, briefly, and accepts the offer.
- - -
It's a slow process, but Ryoma is hopeful. Tezuka has started coming to dinner regularly now. Ryoma sometimes cooks for him at his own place, but gives up more often than not and orders take-out instead. Ryoma's mother loves him; Nanjiroh has learned that demanding to know why Tezuka never went pro is an unwelcome question.
Sometimes, if Tezuka isn't sad or brooding too much, Ryoma will go with him to the graveyard, keeping everything tidy and the incense new; he brings the scents he likes because he feels he has to. He prays, even though he never knows if what he prays for is right, and tells Tezuka's wife that he will keep him safe.
It's getting easier now, as they slide back into familiar routines and conversations, and sometimes Ryoma doesn't slam the door in Fuji's face whenever he comes over.
Ryoma has never told Tezuka that he loves him, since he's learned that there are some things that will always remain unsaid, and actions always speak louder than words.
Note: continuation of Photographs aka. salaryman!Tezuka universe. :( (1,155 words)
Incense
The next time Fuji sends him a photograph, Ryoma finally snaps. He clutches the envelope between tight fingers, taking the train to Fuji's apartment block. The cigarette lighter is tucked securely in his other hand as Ryoma bangs his fist on Fuji's door.
Fuji blinks, taking off the glasses he wears when he's developing photographs from his old-fashioned cameras, and says, "Echizen." His tone makes it clear that he has no idea why Ryoma is here, and that he also doesn't have any intention of letting him inside.
Ryoma holds up the envelope, his face tight and his lips thin. Then he holds the lighter at one of the corners, and flicks it. The envelope burns alarmingly fast, the flames flickering too close to Ryoma's fingers before he lets go; the flames die to ashes by the time they hit the ground.
Ryoma stares right at Fuji, not even flinching when cold blue eyes gaze back at him.
"Enough," Ryoma says, turning and walking away without another word.
Fuji never sends him another photograph, and Ryoma eventually stops having nightmares about Tezuka being burned alive.
- - -
A year passes and, a fortnight before hanami begins, Ryoma gets a phone call from Fuji.
"What do you want?" he snaps into the phone, not even waiting for Fuji to say hello.
"Have you read the latest obituaries?" Fuji asks, deciding to be as blunt as Ryoma.
"No," Ryoma says, but nevertheless goes to read what Fuji tells him to.
His heart beats painfully in his throat when his eyes are drawn to Tezuka- For a moment he breathes too fast, trying his best to remain calm, but then the tension abruptly seeps from his shoulders when he realises the name that follows it is feminine. And then he does stop breathing for a moment.
"How did she die?" he finally asks. "Cancer, a car accident?" He tries his best not to sneer, but it would be fitting for her to die in such an overblown, melodramatic way, fitting for all three of them.
"Heart failure," Fuji replies blandly. "It was her twenty-fifth birthday tomorrow. Tezuka was planning on taking her out to dinner."
A heart attack is hardly better than a car accident or cancer, but it's the reminder that Tezuka loved her which makes Ryoma's chest hurt. He coughs several times, and then asks in a hoarse voice, "How is he?"
"I think he'd like to see you," Fuji says, in a faintly disapproving voice. "Assuming, of course, you can keep your jealousy to yourself for five minutes."
"I'm not as insensitive as my father," Ryoma bites back, glaring at the clock on the wall opposite. "I'm not him."
"Good," Fuji replies. "He never forgot you, you know. He has an entire book of your newspaper clippings and he watched your matches obsessively. Takako always wanted to meet you; she felt like she knew you already, just because you made Tezuka act in a way that no one else could."
Ryoma has to pull the receiver away from his ear for a moment so he can rub his face and try to get his breathing under control. He swallows, and then says, "All right."
"You know where he lives," Fuji says in a matter-of-fact voice before hanging up.
- - -
It's awkward as hell, but Ryoma was sort of expecting that too.
It takes him a week to summon up the courage to seek Tezuka out, following him, of all places, to the graveyard. He watches Tezuka kneel and light incense, thinking he shouldn't be here at all. This moment is too sad, too private, and far away from anything Ryoma ever had to do with Tezuka in the past.
Something makes him walk forward, regardless, and Tezuka looks up at his approach, his eyes dark and unreadable behind his glasses. "Echizen," he says softly, and Ryoma stops, suddenly fumbling and awkward, unsure of what to say and even if there is anything he can say that won't come out completely wrong.
"Hi," he finally settles on, hesitating before kneeling beside Tezuka and reaching to light another stick of incense. He bows his head to pray, aware of Tezuka's eyes on him.
I'm sorry. I'll keep him safe for you.
They remain like this in silence for several minutes, until Tezuka lets out a heavy sigh. "She came home that evening when she met you in the supermarket," he says at last. "She was so excited, and kept berating me for never inviting you over for dinner. I didn't know what to say to her."
"She was very... nice," Ryoma replies slowly, still keeping his head down. It's probably the response Tezuka had expected from him, since he smiles briefly when Ryoma catches his eye.
Tezuka bows his head. "I loved her very much."
Ryoma knows this, but he also knows that there's never going to be any response he'll be able to say to something like that, so he stays quiet and swallows. He could never hate Tezuka for loving her, as Tezuka needed someone to love and to love him back, and Ryoma wasn't the right person for that at the time, no matter what he thought and still thinks.
He's seen that love. Towards the end, though he didn't know it at the time, Fuji had started sending him pictures of Tezuka and his wife. Ryoma remembers his fingers tightening around the glossy pictures until they crumpled at the edges. He remembers throwing them away. He remembers acting so foolish.
The picture that Ryoma burned was the one of Tezuka on his wedding day, kissing his new bride.
"I'm sorry," Ryoma mutters, looking away. "My... mother wants you to come for dinner. I promise my old man won't start asking you questions. I'll hit him if he does."
Tezuka smiles, briefly, and accepts the offer.
- - -
It's a slow process, but Ryoma is hopeful. Tezuka has started coming to dinner regularly now. Ryoma sometimes cooks for him at his own place, but gives up more often than not and orders take-out instead. Ryoma's mother loves him; Nanjiroh has learned that demanding to know why Tezuka never went pro is an unwelcome question.
Sometimes, if Tezuka isn't sad or brooding too much, Ryoma will go with him to the graveyard, keeping everything tidy and the incense new; he brings the scents he likes because he feels he has to. He prays, even though he never knows if what he prays for is right, and tells Tezuka's wife that he will keep him safe.
It's getting easier now, as they slide back into familiar routines and conversations, and sometimes Ryoma doesn't slam the door in Fuji's face whenever he comes over.
Ryoma has never told Tezuka that he loves him, since he's learned that there are some things that will always remain unsaid, and actions always speak louder than words.