prince of tennis | the divine right of kings
31_days | vade mecum. TezuFuji post-Genius 321, for triniophoenicis ♥
Note the first: I am really, really sorry for the suck. D:
Note the second: This is not so much post-Genius 312 itself as post-Shitenhouji.
*
He says "You're rather quiet," as though Tezuka isn't usually quiet, as he sits against the column, pressing his back into the stony cold.
Tezuka's back bends a little straighter.
"Are you disappointed?" Fuji asks, and to be truthful, he cares less about the response itself than that Tezuka should respond at all. "Shall I apologize?" Fuji continues in his mild way, after Tezuka does not say a word.
"No," Tezuka says firmly, still staring straight ahead. He looks at once regal and awkward, a fourteen-year-old king lacking both a regent and friendly advisor (two months after the death of his father, with the end of a failing dynasty within arm's reach), too stubborn to let go of his pride and ask for help lest it fail.
Again.
"You must be thinking something like," Fuji muses aloud, "-- 'If he had listened, we'd have swept,' or something equally foolish, am I right?"
"No," Tezuka says again. He shifts this time, unlocks his knees for a split second.
"Do you remember--" Fuji begins, and Tezuka turns his head a little. "what I said a month ago after my match with Echizen?"
Tezuka looks at him evenly now, as if he's mulling something over, and says, measured, "Of course. Your point?"
"The offer still stands, if you want." His eyes are closed now, one leg stretched on the ground, the other bent, his arm wrapped around the knee. He looks bored.
"Where would the good in that be?"
"Hm?" Fuji looks up.
"Waste of paperwork," Tezuka clarifies, and shoves his hands in his pockets. He steps out from under the overhang, heads toward the sea of yellow forming close by.
Rikkai Dai. Yukimura notices them, nods. Tezuka pauses to return the nod but doesn't look back at Fuji, just keeps walking.
"Ah, well," Fuji chuckles vaguely, following him, "we can't have that."
Note the first: I am really, really sorry for the suck. D:
Note the second: This is not so much post-Genius 312 itself as post-Shitenhouji.
*
He says "You're rather quiet," as though Tezuka isn't usually quiet, as he sits against the column, pressing his back into the stony cold.
Tezuka's back bends a little straighter.
"Are you disappointed?" Fuji asks, and to be truthful, he cares less about the response itself than that Tezuka should respond at all. "Shall I apologize?" Fuji continues in his mild way, after Tezuka does not say a word.
"No," Tezuka says firmly, still staring straight ahead. He looks at once regal and awkward, a fourteen-year-old king lacking both a regent and friendly advisor (two months after the death of his father, with the end of a failing dynasty within arm's reach), too stubborn to let go of his pride and ask for help lest it fail.
Again.
"You must be thinking something like," Fuji muses aloud, "-- 'If he had listened, we'd have swept,' or something equally foolish, am I right?"
"No," Tezuka says again. He shifts this time, unlocks his knees for a split second.
"Do you remember--" Fuji begins, and Tezuka turns his head a little. "what I said a month ago after my match with Echizen?"
Tezuka looks at him evenly now, as if he's mulling something over, and says, measured, "Of course. Your point?"
"The offer still stands, if you want." His eyes are closed now, one leg stretched on the ground, the other bent, his arm wrapped around the knee. He looks bored.
"Where would the good in that be?"
"Hm?" Fuji looks up.
"Waste of paperwork," Tezuka clarifies, and shoves his hands in his pockets. He steps out from under the overhang, heads toward the sea of yellow forming close by.
Rikkai Dai. Yukimura notices them, nods. Tezuka pauses to return the nod but doesn't look back at Fuji, just keeps walking.
"Ah, well," Fuji chuckles vaguely, following him, "we can't have that."