sarcasticcinders: (hands)

Title: A Beautiful Mistake

Fandom: Prince of Tennis

Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji

Rating: G for now, NC-17 later

Length: 2/?

Disclaimer: Anyone you recognize belongs to someone else and I make no money from their work. All original characters belong to me and may be used with permission.

Summary: Sometimes life can throw you a curve ball. You can either swing and pray you hit it or let go it by and take the strike.

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to do angst, but here it is: Tezuka/Fuji angst ::sigh:: This fic may be rife with mistakes (grammar, spelling and otherwise), OOC-ness (but I honestly don’t believe people can remain static for 11 years), and flashbacks and other clichéd plot devices (but I’ll try to write them well). Oh, and if I’m seen to be slacking in updates I give you permission to jab me with a sharp stick repeatedly:)


Chapter 1


Tezuka Kunimitsu blinked against the bright light as he left the gateway and walked on to the concourse of Narita Airport. He stepped out of the flow of passengers and found a seat where he could rest for just a moment. He was absolutely exhausted; mentally, physically and emotionally.


“You, Hana-chan,” he murmured to the baby, safely swaddled in her carrier and sucking her fist as she slumbered, “are a horrible traveling companion.”


He, in his first time father naiveté, had no clue how hard it would be to travel nearly 17 hours with a cranky, teething 7 month old but he knew, for damn sure, that he would never do it again. He sighed and smiled ruefully as he removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His eyes caught the glint of gold that he still wore on his left hand,  Amy’s one insistence that he bow to traditional Western customs, and the smile disappeared with a flash of pain. 


He threw the backpack back on, shouldered the diaper bag, picked up the carrier and joined the throng of passengers that moved like a herd of cattle through the mainway and towards baggage claim and customs.




“Tezuka! Tezuka, over here!”


Tezuka’s head lifted at the sound of his name being called. The formal familiarity of  hearing his family name being used washed over him and he felt part of a weight he hadn’t realized he was carrying melt from his shoulders.


He was in Japan.


He was home.


He looked around until he found the owner of the voice and a smile crossed his features as Oishi walked over to him and gripped his shoulders in greeting.


“You look good, Tezuka. I was sorry to hear about Amy-san. How are you holding up?” Oishi asked as his eyes roamed over Tezuka’s face. He seemed to find whatever he was searching for and, after a friendly squeeze, he released Tezuka’s shoulders and grabbed the luggage.


“Thank you, Oishi. I’m doing alright.” Tezuka answered, noting that Oishi hadn’t changed his mother hen tendencies one bit.


Oishi suddenly stopped and stared wide-eyed at the carrier, “Good Lord, is that Hana-chan? She’s so tiny.”


A look of pride overtook Tezuka as he glanced at his sleeping daughter, “She’s only 7 months old, but she is rather small for her age. Amy was a short little thing too, if you remember?”


Oishi nodded, a shared memory passed between the two of them at the mention of Amy Tezuka. Oishi cleared his throat awkwardly as he watched a sadness pass through his friend’s eyes, “I don’t think it’s too good for the little one to be exposed too long to the chill air. My car is parked nearby.”


Tezuka nodded, adjusted the blanket, and pulled the hood of the carrier more securely over Hana. He gestured for Oishi to lead the way, “Thank you, Oishi, for picking me up. “


“Anytime, buchou, just ask.” Oishi answered quietly, then he stopped in his tracks once more, “Oi, I don’t have a carseat for Hana. Will she be alright to ride?”


Hai, don’t worry, Oishi, Amy made sure we got the carrier that can double as a carseat. It’ll be fine, she’ll be safe.”




Tezuka leaned his head against the passenger side window of the car and closed his eyes. He let the sounds of the rush hour traffic wash over him. He could hear Oishi cursing softly under his breath at some driver’s stupidity and he smiled faintly. The familiar rhythms of constantly spoken Japanese, the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, the smells coming through the slightly open car window brought sharply into focus how much he had unknowingly missed his home.


“It’s nice to be back.” He murmured, “I just wish…”


Oishi took a moment to glance at Tezuka, “You wish it were different circumstances that brought you back. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral.”


“It’s okay, Oishi, I understand. Not everyone can just drop what they were doing and run to America. I appreciate the letter and the phone call, it was enough.”


“I don’t mean to change the subject but I told Eiji about you coming back home. He is now determined to organize a reunion of sorts, you know how he is?”


Tezuka smiled faintly at the affectionate exasperation in Oishi’s voice, “Still together, eh?”


Oishi blushed but he smiled widely, not the least bit ashamed at the choice he made in who he wanted to openly love, “Of course.”


“Sounds like he’s still the same Kikumaru.”


“In certain things, yes. I told him not to plan anything until I spoke with you.”


Tezuka thought a moment before he answered, “I think it would be nice to see everyone. Tell him to go ahead with it.”


Oishi nodded, then he chuckled, “Do you realize that we have talked more in the last 10 minutes than we ever have?”


Tezuka opened his eyes and turned his head to look at his friend and former vice-captain, “No, I clearly remember longer conversation.”


“Yes, but they all involved Tennis. Rarely have we ever talked this much about personal things. You were very short-sighted about certain things, buchou.”


Hai, I do believe you are right, but you shouldn’t call your buchou out. Fifty laps when we get to my parents house.”



Mood:: 'blah' blah
location: Work...oh, joy
Music:: Gypsy- Fleetwood Mac


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