Happy Spring ka0richan!
Title: Teaching Methods
Recipient: ka0richan
Rating: PG-13 (only because of the DRINKING SCENE!)
Pairing(s): Tezuka/Ryoma
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: AU, futurefic. It might be a... teensy bit OOC?
Author's notes: :D Happy Spring Fluff, ka0richan! I had a blast planning this fic, though it didn't really come out the way I wanted. I hope you like it anyway! ♥ Many thanks to C and S for betaing!
It was after the second season in a row of nearly no wins that Echizen Ryoma could no longer deny it: there was something wrong with his tennis.
After realizing it, he trained extra hard to polish his technique, but somehow he just seemed to get worse. His father teased him endlessly about it (which was annoying), but when he thought Echizen wasn't looking, Nanjirou's eyes would turn soft and sad (which was infinitely more annoying).
Finally, his mother had suggested that Echizen take a break from tennis and just get away from it all for a little while.
Echizen had to wonder, as he navigated his way through Narita International Airport, how that equated to teaching English in Japan. Not that he'd be unable to do so, of course; he was more or less bilingual, being raised in a Japanese-speaking home in America for his entire life. He'd also visited family in Japan a few times during the years, so it wasn't completely uncharted territory, either. It was just that he had better things to do than teach English to a bunch of junior high students.
Like tennis.
But no, his mother insisted that tennis was stressing Echizen out more than it should, so he'd best take some time to concentrate on something else. And though he wouldn't stop practicing completely, he had to admit that it was quite refreshing to be free of his professional obligations, at least temporarily.
Cracking a small grin, he shifted his bags and flagged down a taxi to take him to his apartment.
--
It was around noon when Echizen arrived at his apartment, and the moment he stepped inside he found the closest piece of furniture and passed out, exhausted. He slept for a while, waking up in the late afternoon-well, he was just doing a bang-up job adjusting to the time change, wasn't he?
Groaning, he wove his way through his bags to find a change of clothes. He didn't feel like unpacking just yet, so he decided to go and scout out the area-and find some food. He hadn't eaten since breakfast-a bagel, the rubber kind exclusive to airline services!-and he was starving. Maybe he'd even find someplace to play some tennis; he thought he saw some street courts on the ride to his apartment.
Sure enough, after devouring four burgers and two sides of fries at the nearest Mos Burger, Echizen found the street courts only a few blocks away from his new home. They were mostly deserted except for two junior high students engaged in a practice match.
He stood and watched them play for a while; they weren't bad for being at junior high level. They wouldn't be a match for Echizen, though, even if he was playing tennis worse than normal.
Suddenly, one of the boys hit the ball with the edge of his racket, and the ball went soaring erratically towards Echizen. He acted quickly, pulling out his racket and catching the ball, bringing it to a rest on the strings. "The court's that way," he said, serving it back to them.
One of the boys smirked at Echizen as he caught the ball. "Hey, Ojisan!" he called out, "do you play?"
Echizen cocked an eyebrow-Ojisan? Seriously?-before answering, "A little."
"You want to play a set with one of us, then?" the other boy offered. "We'll even give you some pointers if you want!"
The boys snickered, but Echizen ignored them, his eyes straying to their bags across the court. He grinned when he saw the name emblazoned on the bags. Interesting.
"All right," he agreed. "I'll play both of you-at the same time."
Both boys looked shocked at that, and the first said, "You think you can handle that, Ojisan? We're not that easy to beat!"
"I don't mind a challenge," Echizen said dismissively. He took his racket into his right hand and pointed it at them. "I'd like to see the strength of the Seigaku tennis club."
Half an hour later, both boys collapsed onto the bench, exhausted. Echizen followed them off the court and sat on the ground, reclined on his tennis bag.
"You're not bad, Ojisan," one of the boys said after downing half a bottle of water. "You actually managed to beat us 6-3."
Echizen only shrugged as he opened a can of Ponta. "Mada mada dane."
"I'm Nakata," the other boy said, "and that's Kitsuno. We're regulars on the Seigaku tennis team. You know of us?"
"Nope." Echizen watched out of the corner of his eye as the boys' faces fell. "I know of your school though."
"Yeah?" Kitsuno said. "Then you must have heard of Tezuka Kunimitsu, too."
"Who?"
The boys stared at him incredulously as they fumbled over their words. "You know! Tezuka Kunimitsu! He led the team to Nationals ten years ago! They made it to the second round of Nationals with him as captain!"
Only the second round? "Unimpressive," Echizen said dismissively.
"Far from it!" Nakata insisted. "Tezuka put all he had into leading the team to the top. They even beat Hyotei and gave Rikkai a run for their money! He was really talented himself, and could have become a pro easily."
"Tezuka sacrificed his tennis career to get Seigaku as far as they did," Kitsuno continued. "He got injured and refused to leave the team to get it treated. He ended up having to quit tennis for good by the time he graduated."
"Then he's not someone worth playing now, is he?" Echizen stood up and hefted his tennis bag onto his shoulder. "I'll see you around," he muttered as he walked off the courts.
Echizen finished off his Ponta as he gazed off into the sunset. Sacrificed his tennis career, huh? He threw the can into a nearby trash bin and started walking home. What an idiot.
--
Seishun Gakuen Chuutoubu was an impressive school, at least compared to the middle school Echizen had attended. Not that he was an architectural expert to any degree, but as he stood at the school gates he couldn't help but be slightly awed. Following the supervisor-damned if he could remember his name-who was leading him into the school, Echizen was led to the faculty office where he saw rows and rows of desks, with teachers shuffling around in a frenzy. He wondered if it would always be so hectic, or if it was just because it was the first day of the term.
"Come, Echizen-san," said his guide. "I'll introduce you to your fellow teachers."
Sighing at the tediousness of the whole thing, he allowed himself to be ushered down the lines of desks. Most of the names went in one ear and out the other, but one in particular stood out to him.
"This is Tezuka-sensei, he teaches second-year history..."
Tezuka? That Tezuka? Echizen snapped to attention, but was pushed further down the row of desks before he could regard the man completely. He looked back over his shoulder, trying to at least remember Tezuka's desk's location relative to his own.
...Not that Echizen cared about some guy who wasn't worth playing in tennis anymore. He was just curious.
Finally the introductions were over, Echizen had remembered maybe three of his coworkers' names, and he was finally allowed to settle in at his desk. It was across relatively close to Tezuka's desk-across the walkway and a few desks down, so that if Echizen leaned back in his chair and craned his neck, he could at least see the man's face.
The English teacher at the desk neighboring Echizen's-Nagahara-sensei or Nagakawa-sensei or something-was saying something about the day's lesson plans, but Echizen was only half-listening. Angular face, unkempt brown hair, rimless glasses... Tezuka certainly didn't seem to be anything special. You could never tell, though, he supposed...
"Echizen-san, are you listening?"
"Yes!" Echizen turned back to his neighbor, assuring him that he was listening. He'd have time to ponder over Tezuka later... and try to figure out why he even cared.
--
Being in completely different departments, Echizen didn't really get any opportunity to talk to Tezuka for a while. Even if they were both in the teachers' office at the same time, usually one or both of them was dealing with a student's questions or otherwise occupied. It wasn't until a couple weeks later at Echizen's welcome party that they actually got the change to talk at length.
After all the formalities were done with and the party officially started, Echizen found himself bombarded with questions and sake from several of his coworkers. Grimacing, he answered their inquiries, hoping that they'd eventually back off.
Several glasses of booze later, he was able to extract himself from the crowd and find himself at least a moment of peace. He sighed, holding his slightly woozy head in his hand, before another voice spoke up. If only he still had his old baseball cap to hide under.
"So you're a pro tennis player?"
Echizen nearly groaned as he turned to answer the question, only to notice Tezuka sitting a few feet away. "Ah... Tezuka-sempai?"
The older man nodded. "We haven't been formally introduced yet, but I'm Tezuka Kunimitsu. It's a pleasure to meet you, Echizen."
"Likewise..." Echizen awkwardly bowed before looking back up at Tezuka. "Uh... nice party, isn't it?"
Tezuka shrugged. "I'm not one for social gatherings."
"Yeah," Echizen sighed, trailing off.
An awkward silence fell between the two for a few moments. Echizen fiddled with his cup of sake, trying to think of something to say-he'd been wanting to talk with Tezuka, but now that the opportunity presented itself his mind was blank. "Uh... I heard you used to play tennis," he tried.
Tezuka nodded, swirling the sake around in his cup. "Yes. I was captain of our school's tennis team in my third year."
"So why did you quit?"
Glancing at Echizen, he answered, "I had no choice."
"So..." Echizen goaded, "you got injured, right? What happened?"
Tezuka turned to stare Echizen down. "Why do you want to know?"
...Why did he want to know? Just as Echizen was about to answer with some bullshit response, he was ambushed from behind.
"Echizen-kun!" One of the science teachers-a very drunk one-was wrapping his arms around Echizen's shoulders, a big smirk plastered on his flushed face. "What are the girls in America like?"
Echizen forced a grin, and gave some sort of noncommittal response before pushing his coworker off. When he turned around, though, Tezuka was gone.
He sighed, then picked up his sake and took a sip. Maybe he'd get drunk, pass out, and then he wouldn't have to deal with all the idiots. Yes, that was an excellent idea.
--
Standing by the windows in the faculty office, one would be able to see at least part of the Seigaku tennis courts. The girls' courts were out of view, but before and after school hours, the boys' team could be seen warming up and practicing. Tezuka didn't make a habit of watching the practice; seeing the students playing would make him want to take up a racket himself, and knowing that he couldn't just hurt too much.
He would often look up, however, and see Echizen loitering by the window. Usually he would be pretending to be doing anything but watching the practice, but it was obvious that he was. It was understandable, really. He was the son of the great Samurai Nanjirou. Tennis was in his blood, it was his entire life. What Tezuka didn't understand was why Echizen was wasting his time teaching in Japan if tennis really meant so much to him. He probably had his reasons, but it didn't make sense to Tezuka. Why would he...?
"Tezuka-sensei, have you seen Echizen-san?"
"Huh?" He looked up at the teacher addressing him-Nagahara from the English department. After a quick glance towards the windows, noting that Echizen was not there, he shook his had. "Has he gone home for the day?"
"He didn't tell anyone he was leaving..." Nagahara fretted. "He always decides things on his own like that! Does he really want to be a teacher?"
"Probably not."
Nagahara looked at Tezuka curiously. "What do you mean?"
Shaking his head, Tezuka said, "Never mind. It doesn't matter." He stood up and strode to the windows, gazing down on the tennis courts. It was relatively late, and tennis practice had already ended, but there was still someone on the courts, practicing by himself. It was too far away to tell who it was, but Tezuka knew.
He stood there for a while, watching Echizen play. Echizen had said before that his tennis was getting worse, but obviously it wasn't for lack of trying. Did he think that just by turning his concentration on something else for a while, he'd suddenly improve his game when he returned to America? That wouldn't be good enough. If only Echizen had come to junior high ten years earlier, Tezuka would have been able to help him out, as captain of the tennis team. Perhaps they would have even won Nationals, if Echizen was as talented as he was rumored to be. Perhaps the team would have even been strong and united enough that Tezuka could have spared the time to get his arm healed...
He shook his head. There was no use dwelling on that; that was the past, and nothing could be done to change that. Though...
There was still hope for Echizen.
Tezuka turned away from the window and returned to his desk. "I'll be heading home now," he announced, packing up his work. He barely even took notice of his coworkers wishing him off as he left the room.
It was a stupid idea. Careless, even. But Echizen was struggling, and if there was something that Tezuka could do to help, then he would.
He just hoped he hadn't gotten too rusty.
--
Echizen knew Tezuka was standing there watching him, but he didn't turn around to greet him right away. He kept hitting serves across the court, the same as he always did-so why was his tennis getting worse if it was all the same?
"Echizen."
Finally, he turned to face Tezuka. "Sempai, what are you doing here?"
The taller man didn't answer. He entered the courts through the gate and glanced around a bit. "It's been a long time since I last stood here. Not much has changed."
"Of course not, Sempai," Echizen grinned. "Tennis doesn't change. Only the people who play it do."
Tezuka nodded in agreement, then paused a moment before saying, "Echizen, I'd like to play a match with you."
Echizen was genuinely surprised. "You do? But your arm..."
"You know about my arm?" Tezuka cocked an eyebrow.
"It was kind of easy to tell after watching you for a while," Echizen said. "You don't move your left arm that much, and it was weird because when you're sitting at your desk you write with your left hand. Most other things you use your non-dominant hand." He nodded at Tezuka's bag, which he was, sure enough, holding with his right hand. "Was it your shoulder, then?"
Tezuka sighed. "Yes. It was injured in a match against Atobe Keigo. He was the captain of Hyotei at the time."
"So what makes you think you can play tennis now?"
"My arm isn't healed. It never will be." Tezuka locked his eyes on Echizen's. "But if your tennis is flawed, I want to see it, to experience it myself. And then you can figure out how to fix it."
Echizen was still looking doubtful, so Tezuka added, "I'll play with my right hand."
The younger man paused a moment before he nodded. "All right, Sempai. But I won't go easy on you." He began packing up his things to head home. "We can play at the street courts this Sunday at noon. Is that all right with you?"
"That's fine," Tezuka agreed. "Bring an extra racket, I don't have one anymore."
"Fine, fine," Echizen sighed as he hefted his bag on his shoulder. "I'll take care of all that, you just show up ready to lose. My tennis may be suffering, but that doesn't mean I'll lose to some old man who hasn't played in ten years."
Tezuka's lip quirked at the corner, almost forming a small half-smile. "I won't hold back either, Echizen."
--
Atobe Keigo was on his way to a meeting-on a Sunday, of all days!-when he just happened to see his rival from his junior high days, Tezuka Kunimitsu, through the window of his limousine. That in itself wasn't particularly strange, but what was strange was that he was heading to some street courts. Someone else was by his side, carrying a tennis bag. Atobe cocked an eyebrow in surprise. That was an odd scene; Tezuka's tennis career had ended ten years earlier, at the hands of Atobe himself.
Snapping his fingers, Atobe ordered the car to stop, and he climbed out onto the curb. "Drive around the block a bit," he told the driver before closing the door. He had a meeting to attend in an hour, but that could wait. Seeing Tezuka play for the first time in ten years was not something that he could miss.
Of course, maybe Tezuka wouldn't be playing. Maybe he'd just be... watching, or assisting. But that didn't make sense, Atobe knew for a fact that Tezuka had tried writing tennis out of his life completely-in favor of camping and hiking. Honestly, how barbaric!
But no, there was Tezuka, being handed a tennis racket and not becoming all gloomy about it. Interesting.
He was also holding the racket in his right hand. Even more interesting.
Most interesting was the stranger accompanying Tezuka. Atobe was sure he had never met him before, but he did look oddly familiar.
The match started, and Atobe pushed those thoughts aside for the moment. If Tezuka was playing tennis because of this boy, there must have been something special about him.
And there was. The boy was indeed talented, but his game was flawed, somehow. Tezuka's was as well, but that was to be expected. In fact, Tezuka was getting slaughtered. Really, did he expect to perform well when he hadn't practiced in ten years, on top of using his non-dominant hand?
After the first few games, though, it seemed that the tables were turning somewhat. The stranger still had the upper hand, but Tezuka had stopped missing the balls. Tezuka didn't seem to have sped up at all, so why...?
Atobe nearly laughed out loud when he realized what it was.
The Tezuka Zone.
Or rather, the Tezuka Zone's younger, crippled brother who was neglected as a child. The technique wasn't as polished as it had been in their junior high days, and Tezuka did often have to take a step or two from where he stood, but it was the Tezuka Zone all the same. The fact that Tezuka could use it at all after so many years was admirable. It wouldn't be enough to defeat the stranger, but it could at least gain Tezuka some points.
Before long, though, the Zone was broken, and the boy won another game. He watched as the boy stood at the service line, preparing another one of his Twist Serves, and...
Atobe's eyes widened when Tezuka returned the ball. He'd switched to his left arm! The boy seemed surprised by this as well, but he didn't falter and sent the ball back over. Atobe kept his eyes on Tezuka as the rally continued, watching his movements closely. That arm of his was not in the condition to be put under such stress. With each stroke, the pain must have been getting worse, so why was he forcing his way through the pain? Was the boy really that worth it?
Suddenly, Tezuka positioned himself in a stance that Atobe knew all too well, and he knew what was coming next. That idiot! Does he really think he can hit the Zero-Shiki in that condition?
"Stop!"
Without even realizing it, Atobe had called out and stepped up to the court. Both players froze where they stood, letting the ball drop onto Tezuka's side of the court.
With two long strides, Atobe approached Tezuka and snatched the racket from his hand, jostling Tezuka's arm as he did. Predictably, Tezuka very nearly screamed in pain, and Atobe scowled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "You are absolutely certifiable, Tezuka."
"Atobe?" Tezuka managed to gasp out as he grasped his shoulder. "What are you doing here?"
"I saw you on your way to the courts and I thought I'd watch to see how stupid you were being," Atobe growled. "I didn't expect you to be downright moronic!"
Tezuka glared at him, and Atobe had to take half a step back. Tezuka's eyes were burning with a fire he'd never seen of him before.
"Hey, Sempai." Atobe turned around to see that the strange boy had approached the net. "Who's this monkey king?"
Atobe smirked, completely ignoring the blatant insult. "Atobe Keigo. A pleasure, I'm sure."
"Right." The boy nodded slowly, glaring. "You're the one who destroyed Sempai's arm."
"Ahhn?" Atobe bent over to get a better look at him. He studied him carefully for a moment, and finally it clicked. "I know you," he drawled. "You're that Echizen Ryoma kid who couldn't live up to his father's name, aren't you?"
The boy-Echizen-glared even harder, but said nothing.
"If you had wanted to be beaten by an amateur player, Tezuka wasn't the one to go to," Atobe continued. "He hit rock bottom long ago, I'm sure you're aware."
"Atobe-"
He held up a hand to shush Tezuka, his eyes still locked on Echizen's. "Now I see what this is about. And you don't have a clue what's wrong with your tennis, do you?"
"And you do?"
"Of course I do." Atobe straightened up and turned his attention to the racket in his hand. As he tested the grip, he said, "Tezuka, get off the court."
"And what are you planning to do?" Echizen asked, watching his sempai reluctantly back off.
"What else would I do with a tennis racket?" Atobe shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he got ready to play. "We're going to play a match, and I'm going to show you what Tezuka couldn't."
Echizen sneered. "What could I possibly learn from a Monkey King that I couldn't learn from Tezuka-sempai?"
Atobe glanced at his opponent with boredom before pointing the racket at him. "The difference between winning and losing. Prepare to be awed by my prowess."
--
The match with Atobe was drastically different from Echizen's match with Tezuka, and ended with Atobe winning 6-2. It was understandable; Atobe had clearly kept up his practicing, and he was a brilliant player to boot. He was able to pinpoint every single one of Echizen's weaknesses and take full advantage of them. Echizen wouldn't admit to being "awed by his prowess" or whatever crap he had gone on about, but he couldn't deny that Atobe Keigo played an amazing game of tennis. He played so well, in fact, that Echizen was helpless to do anything until the very end, when he suddenly threw away all the techniques that he had learned from his father and played aimlessly, managing to take two games before Atobe rose up and won.
Panting heavily, Echizen stared at his hands before looking up at Atobe. "I've never played tennis like that before."
"Obviously," Atobe sighed, busying himself with the wrinkles in his shirt. "Now you understand?"
Echizen blinked in confusion before he remembered that, yes, he was supposed to be learning something from the match. "I don't... but why...?"
"Tell me, Echizen," Atobe said, staring at him pointedly. "Before becoming a pro, did you often play tennis with anyone other than your father and sub-par amateurs?"
Pausing, Echizen considered that. Had he? "What would that have to do with anything?"
"Everything," Tezuka piped in. "You didn't have experience playing opponents with different playing styles, and your adaptability suffered because of it. You've been playing your father's tennis for all your life, but have you ever thought to grow beyond that? To define your own style of tennis?"
Echizen was dumbfounded. Was that it? That was why he was playing so horribly? And he bet his father knew that, too, the bastard...
Tezuka sighed, then turned to Atobe. "Atobe, may I speak to you for a moment?"
Shrugging, Atobe took his jacket and followed Tezuka off the courts. Before he got too far, though, he paused and glanced back to Echizen, who was still stunned speechless.
Then, grinning smugly, he went to catch up with Tezuka.
--
"Why did you do that, Atobe?"
Atobe straightened his jacket before smirking at his old rival. "Ahhn? Should I not have?"
Tezuka didn't answer, so Atobe continued. "You have a good eye for talent, Tezuka. You always have. But that doesn't mean you should go beyond your limits to try and draw out that talent on your own."
"This didn't concern you," Tezuka protested.
"Perhaps not," Atobe shrugged. "But I could clearly see how determined you were to not let that boy's talent go to waste, and I honestly felt the same."
"Why?"
A grin. "Oh don't worry about it so much, Tezuka. I have no interest in stealing your kouhai's affections for you."
The brunet cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"Honestly, though?" Atobe inspected his fingernails, refusing to meet Tezuka's eyes. "For ten years, I've been kicking myself over our match. You were a fantastic athlete, and could have shaken the tennis world had you been allowed to climb further. Any true sportsman would have felt the same."
Tezuka's expression softened slightly. "Atobe..."
Pulling out his cell phone to check the time, Atobe hissed. "Damn, I'm late to my meeting. I'll see you around, Tezuka." With a backwards wave, Atobe left to meet his limo at the curb.
--
After Echizen's match with Atobe, Tezuka gradually saw less and less of his kouhai, only exchanging brief greetings when they passed each other in the halls. Echizen was reportedly spending all his free time-and then some-practicing his tennis, trying to find his own style. It drove the administration ballistic, because he was showing up late to work and leaving early.
Tezuka could only shake his head, smiling softly.
It was somewhat lonely, but Tezuka wasn't exactly the type to actively pursue a relationship outside of his normal routine. Though he wouldn't have minded meeting Echizen for drinks or coffee occasionally.
Echizen was busy, though. His future was with tennis, and Tezuka's was not.
Wrapping his scarf to shield his face from the harsh winter winds, Tezuka sighed and began the trek home-Echizen had left hours earlier, before the sun had even set.
On a whim, Tezuka decided to take the long way home, which would take him past the street courts where he had played Echizen only a few months earlier. They would more likely than not be deserted-it was the middle of December, after all-but just being there and knowing that Echizen was trying his hardest made him feel that he had really accomplished something.
To his surprise, as he approached the courts, he could hear the familiar sound of a racket connecting with the ball. Curious, he climbed the steps to see who it was...
Echizen. Of course.
"Normal people go to the indoor courts in winter," Tezuka said, his voice echoing in the night.
Echizen didn't turn around. "I'm not like normal people, Sempai."
Of course. Echizen wasn't like normal people.
"You'll catch a cold if you stay out too late," he tried again, walking up to where Echizen stood.
Echizen did turn around then as he caught the ball in his hand. "It doesn't matter. Not as long as I'm getting stronger."
Tezuka shook his head, smiling softly.
"It is getting late though, so I probably should be heading in," Echizen said, glancing up at the sky. "It's supposed to start snowing tonight, too."
"Would you like to go get something to drink first?" Tezuka didn't even process the words as he said them, and wanted to take them back immediately.
The words hung in the air for a moment before Echizen smirked and said, "Sure. I'd like that." He pulled his tennis bag over his shoulder and walked ahead before stopping and looking back over his shoulder. "Oh. But since you're the sempai, you're treating."
Tezuka didn't mind one bit.
OMAKE-CUT SCENE
"Tezuka!" A smiling man with brown hair swept into the faculty office. Echizen watched in veiled interest as the stranger sidled up to his sempai's side and leaned closer. "I heard you played tennis the other day."
Tezuka, undaunted, didn't look up from his work. "What are you doing here, Fuji?"
"I wanted to take a look at that arm of yours," the man named Fuji said, smiling serenely. "You know better than to be careless about that. Here..." Reaching over, he took Tezuka's left arm and raised it up, causing Tezuka to bite down on a cry of pain.
"Who are you?" Echizen finally cut in, mildly concerned.
Fuji dropped Tezuka's arm and looked at the younger man, his smile widening. "Ahh. You must be Echizen-kun."
"And if I am?"
"It's unusual for Tezuka to have such an interest in someone," Fuji continued, walking over. "Ever since junior high, at least. It's curious that he'd disobey doctor's orders just to put you to the test."
Frowning, and noting the hospital ID badge hanging from the man's shirt, Echizen asked, "Are you his doctor?"
"Oh no," Fuji said, positively glowing. "I haven't yet earned my degree."
Echizen got the distinct impression that he wouldn't want this man as his doctor, even after earning his degree.
"So shouldn't you be training at the hospital for that very reason?" Tezuka said sternly, appearing at Fuji's side.
"Why Tezuka, don't you appreciate that I've taken the time to make a house call for you?"
"If this were my house and not my workplace, then perhaps."
Fuji only smiled. "I see. I'll be taking my leave, then. Call me, Tezuka!" With that, he turned and left the room, giving a last backwards wave.
Once the door was shut and Fuji's footsteps faded down the hall, Echizen looked up at Tezuka, who was still standing by his desk. "He's a med student, Sempai?"
"Frightening, isn't it?"
Recipient: ka0richan
Rating: PG-13 (only because of the DRINKING SCENE!)
Pairing(s): Tezuka/Ryoma
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: AU, futurefic. It might be a... teensy bit OOC?
Author's notes: :D Happy Spring Fluff, ka0richan! I had a blast planning this fic, though it didn't really come out the way I wanted. I hope you like it anyway! ♥ Many thanks to C and S for betaing!
It was after the second season in a row of nearly no wins that Echizen Ryoma could no longer deny it: there was something wrong with his tennis.
After realizing it, he trained extra hard to polish his technique, but somehow he just seemed to get worse. His father teased him endlessly about it (which was annoying), but when he thought Echizen wasn't looking, Nanjirou's eyes would turn soft and sad (which was infinitely more annoying).
Finally, his mother had suggested that Echizen take a break from tennis and just get away from it all for a little while.
Echizen had to wonder, as he navigated his way through Narita International Airport, how that equated to teaching English in Japan. Not that he'd be unable to do so, of course; he was more or less bilingual, being raised in a Japanese-speaking home in America for his entire life. He'd also visited family in Japan a few times during the years, so it wasn't completely uncharted territory, either. It was just that he had better things to do than teach English to a bunch of junior high students.
Like tennis.
But no, his mother insisted that tennis was stressing Echizen out more than it should, so he'd best take some time to concentrate on something else. And though he wouldn't stop practicing completely, he had to admit that it was quite refreshing to be free of his professional obligations, at least temporarily.
Cracking a small grin, he shifted his bags and flagged down a taxi to take him to his apartment.
--
It was around noon when Echizen arrived at his apartment, and the moment he stepped inside he found the closest piece of furniture and passed out, exhausted. He slept for a while, waking up in the late afternoon-well, he was just doing a bang-up job adjusting to the time change, wasn't he?
Groaning, he wove his way through his bags to find a change of clothes. He didn't feel like unpacking just yet, so he decided to go and scout out the area-and find some food. He hadn't eaten since breakfast-a bagel, the rubber kind exclusive to airline services!-and he was starving. Maybe he'd even find someplace to play some tennis; he thought he saw some street courts on the ride to his apartment.
Sure enough, after devouring four burgers and two sides of fries at the nearest Mos Burger, Echizen found the street courts only a few blocks away from his new home. They were mostly deserted except for two junior high students engaged in a practice match.
He stood and watched them play for a while; they weren't bad for being at junior high level. They wouldn't be a match for Echizen, though, even if he was playing tennis worse than normal.
Suddenly, one of the boys hit the ball with the edge of his racket, and the ball went soaring erratically towards Echizen. He acted quickly, pulling out his racket and catching the ball, bringing it to a rest on the strings. "The court's that way," he said, serving it back to them.
One of the boys smirked at Echizen as he caught the ball. "Hey, Ojisan!" he called out, "do you play?"
Echizen cocked an eyebrow-Ojisan? Seriously?-before answering, "A little."
"You want to play a set with one of us, then?" the other boy offered. "We'll even give you some pointers if you want!"
The boys snickered, but Echizen ignored them, his eyes straying to their bags across the court. He grinned when he saw the name emblazoned on the bags. Interesting.
"All right," he agreed. "I'll play both of you-at the same time."
Both boys looked shocked at that, and the first said, "You think you can handle that, Ojisan? We're not that easy to beat!"
"I don't mind a challenge," Echizen said dismissively. He took his racket into his right hand and pointed it at them. "I'd like to see the strength of the Seigaku tennis club."
Half an hour later, both boys collapsed onto the bench, exhausted. Echizen followed them off the court and sat on the ground, reclined on his tennis bag.
"You're not bad, Ojisan," one of the boys said after downing half a bottle of water. "You actually managed to beat us 6-3."
Echizen only shrugged as he opened a can of Ponta. "Mada mada dane."
"I'm Nakata," the other boy said, "and that's Kitsuno. We're regulars on the Seigaku tennis team. You know of us?"
"Nope." Echizen watched out of the corner of his eye as the boys' faces fell. "I know of your school though."
"Yeah?" Kitsuno said. "Then you must have heard of Tezuka Kunimitsu, too."
"Who?"
The boys stared at him incredulously as they fumbled over their words. "You know! Tezuka Kunimitsu! He led the team to Nationals ten years ago! They made it to the second round of Nationals with him as captain!"
Only the second round? "Unimpressive," Echizen said dismissively.
"Far from it!" Nakata insisted. "Tezuka put all he had into leading the team to the top. They even beat Hyotei and gave Rikkai a run for their money! He was really talented himself, and could have become a pro easily."
"Tezuka sacrificed his tennis career to get Seigaku as far as they did," Kitsuno continued. "He got injured and refused to leave the team to get it treated. He ended up having to quit tennis for good by the time he graduated."
"Then he's not someone worth playing now, is he?" Echizen stood up and hefted his tennis bag onto his shoulder. "I'll see you around," he muttered as he walked off the courts.
Echizen finished off his Ponta as he gazed off into the sunset. Sacrificed his tennis career, huh? He threw the can into a nearby trash bin and started walking home. What an idiot.
--
Seishun Gakuen Chuutoubu was an impressive school, at least compared to the middle school Echizen had attended. Not that he was an architectural expert to any degree, but as he stood at the school gates he couldn't help but be slightly awed. Following the supervisor-damned if he could remember his name-who was leading him into the school, Echizen was led to the faculty office where he saw rows and rows of desks, with teachers shuffling around in a frenzy. He wondered if it would always be so hectic, or if it was just because it was the first day of the term.
"Come, Echizen-san," said his guide. "I'll introduce you to your fellow teachers."
Sighing at the tediousness of the whole thing, he allowed himself to be ushered down the lines of desks. Most of the names went in one ear and out the other, but one in particular stood out to him.
"This is Tezuka-sensei, he teaches second-year history..."
Tezuka? That Tezuka? Echizen snapped to attention, but was pushed further down the row of desks before he could regard the man completely. He looked back over his shoulder, trying to at least remember Tezuka's desk's location relative to his own.
...Not that Echizen cared about some guy who wasn't worth playing in tennis anymore. He was just curious.
Finally the introductions were over, Echizen had remembered maybe three of his coworkers' names, and he was finally allowed to settle in at his desk. It was across relatively close to Tezuka's desk-across the walkway and a few desks down, so that if Echizen leaned back in his chair and craned his neck, he could at least see the man's face.
The English teacher at the desk neighboring Echizen's-Nagahara-sensei or Nagakawa-sensei or something-was saying something about the day's lesson plans, but Echizen was only half-listening. Angular face, unkempt brown hair, rimless glasses... Tezuka certainly didn't seem to be anything special. You could never tell, though, he supposed...
"Echizen-san, are you listening?"
"Yes!" Echizen turned back to his neighbor, assuring him that he was listening. He'd have time to ponder over Tezuka later... and try to figure out why he even cared.
--
Being in completely different departments, Echizen didn't really get any opportunity to talk to Tezuka for a while. Even if they were both in the teachers' office at the same time, usually one or both of them was dealing with a student's questions or otherwise occupied. It wasn't until a couple weeks later at Echizen's welcome party that they actually got the change to talk at length.
After all the formalities were done with and the party officially started, Echizen found himself bombarded with questions and sake from several of his coworkers. Grimacing, he answered their inquiries, hoping that they'd eventually back off.
Several glasses of booze later, he was able to extract himself from the crowd and find himself at least a moment of peace. He sighed, holding his slightly woozy head in his hand, before another voice spoke up. If only he still had his old baseball cap to hide under.
"So you're a pro tennis player?"
Echizen nearly groaned as he turned to answer the question, only to notice Tezuka sitting a few feet away. "Ah... Tezuka-sempai?"
The older man nodded. "We haven't been formally introduced yet, but I'm Tezuka Kunimitsu. It's a pleasure to meet you, Echizen."
"Likewise..." Echizen awkwardly bowed before looking back up at Tezuka. "Uh... nice party, isn't it?"
Tezuka shrugged. "I'm not one for social gatherings."
"Yeah," Echizen sighed, trailing off.
An awkward silence fell between the two for a few moments. Echizen fiddled with his cup of sake, trying to think of something to say-he'd been wanting to talk with Tezuka, but now that the opportunity presented itself his mind was blank. "Uh... I heard you used to play tennis," he tried.
Tezuka nodded, swirling the sake around in his cup. "Yes. I was captain of our school's tennis team in my third year."
"So why did you quit?"
Glancing at Echizen, he answered, "I had no choice."
"So..." Echizen goaded, "you got injured, right? What happened?"
Tezuka turned to stare Echizen down. "Why do you want to know?"
...Why did he want to know? Just as Echizen was about to answer with some bullshit response, he was ambushed from behind.
"Echizen-kun!" One of the science teachers-a very drunk one-was wrapping his arms around Echizen's shoulders, a big smirk plastered on his flushed face. "What are the girls in America like?"
Echizen forced a grin, and gave some sort of noncommittal response before pushing his coworker off. When he turned around, though, Tezuka was gone.
He sighed, then picked up his sake and took a sip. Maybe he'd get drunk, pass out, and then he wouldn't have to deal with all the idiots. Yes, that was an excellent idea.
--
Standing by the windows in the faculty office, one would be able to see at least part of the Seigaku tennis courts. The girls' courts were out of view, but before and after school hours, the boys' team could be seen warming up and practicing. Tezuka didn't make a habit of watching the practice; seeing the students playing would make him want to take up a racket himself, and knowing that he couldn't just hurt too much.
He would often look up, however, and see Echizen loitering by the window. Usually he would be pretending to be doing anything but watching the practice, but it was obvious that he was. It was understandable, really. He was the son of the great Samurai Nanjirou. Tennis was in his blood, it was his entire life. What Tezuka didn't understand was why Echizen was wasting his time teaching in Japan if tennis really meant so much to him. He probably had his reasons, but it didn't make sense to Tezuka. Why would he...?
"Tezuka-sensei, have you seen Echizen-san?"
"Huh?" He looked up at the teacher addressing him-Nagahara from the English department. After a quick glance towards the windows, noting that Echizen was not there, he shook his had. "Has he gone home for the day?"
"He didn't tell anyone he was leaving..." Nagahara fretted. "He always decides things on his own like that! Does he really want to be a teacher?"
"Probably not."
Nagahara looked at Tezuka curiously. "What do you mean?"
Shaking his head, Tezuka said, "Never mind. It doesn't matter." He stood up and strode to the windows, gazing down on the tennis courts. It was relatively late, and tennis practice had already ended, but there was still someone on the courts, practicing by himself. It was too far away to tell who it was, but Tezuka knew.
He stood there for a while, watching Echizen play. Echizen had said before that his tennis was getting worse, but obviously it wasn't for lack of trying. Did he think that just by turning his concentration on something else for a while, he'd suddenly improve his game when he returned to America? That wouldn't be good enough. If only Echizen had come to junior high ten years earlier, Tezuka would have been able to help him out, as captain of the tennis team. Perhaps they would have even won Nationals, if Echizen was as talented as he was rumored to be. Perhaps the team would have even been strong and united enough that Tezuka could have spared the time to get his arm healed...
He shook his head. There was no use dwelling on that; that was the past, and nothing could be done to change that. Though...
There was still hope for Echizen.
Tezuka turned away from the window and returned to his desk. "I'll be heading home now," he announced, packing up his work. He barely even took notice of his coworkers wishing him off as he left the room.
It was a stupid idea. Careless, even. But Echizen was struggling, and if there was something that Tezuka could do to help, then he would.
He just hoped he hadn't gotten too rusty.
--
Echizen knew Tezuka was standing there watching him, but he didn't turn around to greet him right away. He kept hitting serves across the court, the same as he always did-so why was his tennis getting worse if it was all the same?
"Echizen."
Finally, he turned to face Tezuka. "Sempai, what are you doing here?"
The taller man didn't answer. He entered the courts through the gate and glanced around a bit. "It's been a long time since I last stood here. Not much has changed."
"Of course not, Sempai," Echizen grinned. "Tennis doesn't change. Only the people who play it do."
Tezuka nodded in agreement, then paused a moment before saying, "Echizen, I'd like to play a match with you."
Echizen was genuinely surprised. "You do? But your arm..."
"You know about my arm?" Tezuka cocked an eyebrow.
"It was kind of easy to tell after watching you for a while," Echizen said. "You don't move your left arm that much, and it was weird because when you're sitting at your desk you write with your left hand. Most other things you use your non-dominant hand." He nodded at Tezuka's bag, which he was, sure enough, holding with his right hand. "Was it your shoulder, then?"
Tezuka sighed. "Yes. It was injured in a match against Atobe Keigo. He was the captain of Hyotei at the time."
"So what makes you think you can play tennis now?"
"My arm isn't healed. It never will be." Tezuka locked his eyes on Echizen's. "But if your tennis is flawed, I want to see it, to experience it myself. And then you can figure out how to fix it."
Echizen was still looking doubtful, so Tezuka added, "I'll play with my right hand."
The younger man paused a moment before he nodded. "All right, Sempai. But I won't go easy on you." He began packing up his things to head home. "We can play at the street courts this Sunday at noon. Is that all right with you?"
"That's fine," Tezuka agreed. "Bring an extra racket, I don't have one anymore."
"Fine, fine," Echizen sighed as he hefted his bag on his shoulder. "I'll take care of all that, you just show up ready to lose. My tennis may be suffering, but that doesn't mean I'll lose to some old man who hasn't played in ten years."
Tezuka's lip quirked at the corner, almost forming a small half-smile. "I won't hold back either, Echizen."
--
Atobe Keigo was on his way to a meeting-on a Sunday, of all days!-when he just happened to see his rival from his junior high days, Tezuka Kunimitsu, through the window of his limousine. That in itself wasn't particularly strange, but what was strange was that he was heading to some street courts. Someone else was by his side, carrying a tennis bag. Atobe cocked an eyebrow in surprise. That was an odd scene; Tezuka's tennis career had ended ten years earlier, at the hands of Atobe himself.
Snapping his fingers, Atobe ordered the car to stop, and he climbed out onto the curb. "Drive around the block a bit," he told the driver before closing the door. He had a meeting to attend in an hour, but that could wait. Seeing Tezuka play for the first time in ten years was not something that he could miss.
Of course, maybe Tezuka wouldn't be playing. Maybe he'd just be... watching, or assisting. But that didn't make sense, Atobe knew for a fact that Tezuka had tried writing tennis out of his life completely-in favor of camping and hiking. Honestly, how barbaric!
But no, there was Tezuka, being handed a tennis racket and not becoming all gloomy about it. Interesting.
He was also holding the racket in his right hand. Even more interesting.
Most interesting was the stranger accompanying Tezuka. Atobe was sure he had never met him before, but he did look oddly familiar.
The match started, and Atobe pushed those thoughts aside for the moment. If Tezuka was playing tennis because of this boy, there must have been something special about him.
And there was. The boy was indeed talented, but his game was flawed, somehow. Tezuka's was as well, but that was to be expected. In fact, Tezuka was getting slaughtered. Really, did he expect to perform well when he hadn't practiced in ten years, on top of using his non-dominant hand?
After the first few games, though, it seemed that the tables were turning somewhat. The stranger still had the upper hand, but Tezuka had stopped missing the balls. Tezuka didn't seem to have sped up at all, so why...?
Atobe nearly laughed out loud when he realized what it was.
The Tezuka Zone.
Or rather, the Tezuka Zone's younger, crippled brother who was neglected as a child. The technique wasn't as polished as it had been in their junior high days, and Tezuka did often have to take a step or two from where he stood, but it was the Tezuka Zone all the same. The fact that Tezuka could use it at all after so many years was admirable. It wouldn't be enough to defeat the stranger, but it could at least gain Tezuka some points.
Before long, though, the Zone was broken, and the boy won another game. He watched as the boy stood at the service line, preparing another one of his Twist Serves, and...
Atobe's eyes widened when Tezuka returned the ball. He'd switched to his left arm! The boy seemed surprised by this as well, but he didn't falter and sent the ball back over. Atobe kept his eyes on Tezuka as the rally continued, watching his movements closely. That arm of his was not in the condition to be put under such stress. With each stroke, the pain must have been getting worse, so why was he forcing his way through the pain? Was the boy really that worth it?
Suddenly, Tezuka positioned himself in a stance that Atobe knew all too well, and he knew what was coming next. That idiot! Does he really think he can hit the Zero-Shiki in that condition?
"Stop!"
Without even realizing it, Atobe had called out and stepped up to the court. Both players froze where they stood, letting the ball drop onto Tezuka's side of the court.
With two long strides, Atobe approached Tezuka and snatched the racket from his hand, jostling Tezuka's arm as he did. Predictably, Tezuka very nearly screamed in pain, and Atobe scowled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "You are absolutely certifiable, Tezuka."
"Atobe?" Tezuka managed to gasp out as he grasped his shoulder. "What are you doing here?"
"I saw you on your way to the courts and I thought I'd watch to see how stupid you were being," Atobe growled. "I didn't expect you to be downright moronic!"
Tezuka glared at him, and Atobe had to take half a step back. Tezuka's eyes were burning with a fire he'd never seen of him before.
"Hey, Sempai." Atobe turned around to see that the strange boy had approached the net. "Who's this monkey king?"
Atobe smirked, completely ignoring the blatant insult. "Atobe Keigo. A pleasure, I'm sure."
"Right." The boy nodded slowly, glaring. "You're the one who destroyed Sempai's arm."
"Ahhn?" Atobe bent over to get a better look at him. He studied him carefully for a moment, and finally it clicked. "I know you," he drawled. "You're that Echizen Ryoma kid who couldn't live up to his father's name, aren't you?"
The boy-Echizen-glared even harder, but said nothing.
"If you had wanted to be beaten by an amateur player, Tezuka wasn't the one to go to," Atobe continued. "He hit rock bottom long ago, I'm sure you're aware."
"Atobe-"
He held up a hand to shush Tezuka, his eyes still locked on Echizen's. "Now I see what this is about. And you don't have a clue what's wrong with your tennis, do you?"
"And you do?"
"Of course I do." Atobe straightened up and turned his attention to the racket in his hand. As he tested the grip, he said, "Tezuka, get off the court."
"And what are you planning to do?" Echizen asked, watching his sempai reluctantly back off.
"What else would I do with a tennis racket?" Atobe shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he got ready to play. "We're going to play a match, and I'm going to show you what Tezuka couldn't."
Echizen sneered. "What could I possibly learn from a Monkey King that I couldn't learn from Tezuka-sempai?"
Atobe glanced at his opponent with boredom before pointing the racket at him. "The difference between winning and losing. Prepare to be awed by my prowess."
--
The match with Atobe was drastically different from Echizen's match with Tezuka, and ended with Atobe winning 6-2. It was understandable; Atobe had clearly kept up his practicing, and he was a brilliant player to boot. He was able to pinpoint every single one of Echizen's weaknesses and take full advantage of them. Echizen wouldn't admit to being "awed by his prowess" or whatever crap he had gone on about, but he couldn't deny that Atobe Keigo played an amazing game of tennis. He played so well, in fact, that Echizen was helpless to do anything until the very end, when he suddenly threw away all the techniques that he had learned from his father and played aimlessly, managing to take two games before Atobe rose up and won.
Panting heavily, Echizen stared at his hands before looking up at Atobe. "I've never played tennis like that before."
"Obviously," Atobe sighed, busying himself with the wrinkles in his shirt. "Now you understand?"
Echizen blinked in confusion before he remembered that, yes, he was supposed to be learning something from the match. "I don't... but why...?"
"Tell me, Echizen," Atobe said, staring at him pointedly. "Before becoming a pro, did you often play tennis with anyone other than your father and sub-par amateurs?"
Pausing, Echizen considered that. Had he? "What would that have to do with anything?"
"Everything," Tezuka piped in. "You didn't have experience playing opponents with different playing styles, and your adaptability suffered because of it. You've been playing your father's tennis for all your life, but have you ever thought to grow beyond that? To define your own style of tennis?"
Echizen was dumbfounded. Was that it? That was why he was playing so horribly? And he bet his father knew that, too, the bastard...
Tezuka sighed, then turned to Atobe. "Atobe, may I speak to you for a moment?"
Shrugging, Atobe took his jacket and followed Tezuka off the courts. Before he got too far, though, he paused and glanced back to Echizen, who was still stunned speechless.
Then, grinning smugly, he went to catch up with Tezuka.
--
"Why did you do that, Atobe?"
Atobe straightened his jacket before smirking at his old rival. "Ahhn? Should I not have?"
Tezuka didn't answer, so Atobe continued. "You have a good eye for talent, Tezuka. You always have. But that doesn't mean you should go beyond your limits to try and draw out that talent on your own."
"This didn't concern you," Tezuka protested.
"Perhaps not," Atobe shrugged. "But I could clearly see how determined you were to not let that boy's talent go to waste, and I honestly felt the same."
"Why?"
A grin. "Oh don't worry about it so much, Tezuka. I have no interest in stealing your kouhai's affections for you."
The brunet cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"Honestly, though?" Atobe inspected his fingernails, refusing to meet Tezuka's eyes. "For ten years, I've been kicking myself over our match. You were a fantastic athlete, and could have shaken the tennis world had you been allowed to climb further. Any true sportsman would have felt the same."
Tezuka's expression softened slightly. "Atobe..."
Pulling out his cell phone to check the time, Atobe hissed. "Damn, I'm late to my meeting. I'll see you around, Tezuka." With a backwards wave, Atobe left to meet his limo at the curb.
--
After Echizen's match with Atobe, Tezuka gradually saw less and less of his kouhai, only exchanging brief greetings when they passed each other in the halls. Echizen was reportedly spending all his free time-and then some-practicing his tennis, trying to find his own style. It drove the administration ballistic, because he was showing up late to work and leaving early.
Tezuka could only shake his head, smiling softly.
It was somewhat lonely, but Tezuka wasn't exactly the type to actively pursue a relationship outside of his normal routine. Though he wouldn't have minded meeting Echizen for drinks or coffee occasionally.
Echizen was busy, though. His future was with tennis, and Tezuka's was not.
Wrapping his scarf to shield his face from the harsh winter winds, Tezuka sighed and began the trek home-Echizen had left hours earlier, before the sun had even set.
On a whim, Tezuka decided to take the long way home, which would take him past the street courts where he had played Echizen only a few months earlier. They would more likely than not be deserted-it was the middle of December, after all-but just being there and knowing that Echizen was trying his hardest made him feel that he had really accomplished something.
To his surprise, as he approached the courts, he could hear the familiar sound of a racket connecting with the ball. Curious, he climbed the steps to see who it was...
Echizen. Of course.
"Normal people go to the indoor courts in winter," Tezuka said, his voice echoing in the night.
Echizen didn't turn around. "I'm not like normal people, Sempai."
Of course. Echizen wasn't like normal people.
"You'll catch a cold if you stay out too late," he tried again, walking up to where Echizen stood.
Echizen did turn around then as he caught the ball in his hand. "It doesn't matter. Not as long as I'm getting stronger."
Tezuka shook his head, smiling softly.
"It is getting late though, so I probably should be heading in," Echizen said, glancing up at the sky. "It's supposed to start snowing tonight, too."
"Would you like to go get something to drink first?" Tezuka didn't even process the words as he said them, and wanted to take them back immediately.
The words hung in the air for a moment before Echizen smirked and said, "Sure. I'd like that." He pulled his tennis bag over his shoulder and walked ahead before stopping and looking back over his shoulder. "Oh. But since you're the sempai, you're treating."
Tezuka didn't mind one bit.
OMAKE-CUT SCENE
"Tezuka!" A smiling man with brown hair swept into the faculty office. Echizen watched in veiled interest as the stranger sidled up to his sempai's side and leaned closer. "I heard you played tennis the other day."
Tezuka, undaunted, didn't look up from his work. "What are you doing here, Fuji?"
"I wanted to take a look at that arm of yours," the man named Fuji said, smiling serenely. "You know better than to be careless about that. Here..." Reaching over, he took Tezuka's left arm and raised it up, causing Tezuka to bite down on a cry of pain.
"Who are you?" Echizen finally cut in, mildly concerned.
Fuji dropped Tezuka's arm and looked at the younger man, his smile widening. "Ahh. You must be Echizen-kun."
"And if I am?"
"It's unusual for Tezuka to have such an interest in someone," Fuji continued, walking over. "Ever since junior high, at least. It's curious that he'd disobey doctor's orders just to put you to the test."
Frowning, and noting the hospital ID badge hanging from the man's shirt, Echizen asked, "Are you his doctor?"
"Oh no," Fuji said, positively glowing. "I haven't yet earned my degree."
Echizen got the distinct impression that he wouldn't want this man as his doctor, even after earning his degree.
"So shouldn't you be training at the hospital for that very reason?" Tezuka said sternly, appearing at Fuji's side.
"Why Tezuka, don't you appreciate that I've taken the time to make a house call for you?"
"If this were my house and not my workplace, then perhaps."
Fuji only smiled. "I see. I'll be taking my leave, then. Call me, Tezuka!" With that, he turned and left the room, giving a last backwards wave.
Once the door was shut and Fuji's footsteps faded down the hall, Echizen looked up at Tezuka, who was still standing by his desk. "He's a med student, Sempai?"
"Frightening, isn't it?"