sarcasticcinders: (hands)
Title: A Beautiful Mistake
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Tezuka, Fuji/OC
Rating: R (language)
Length: 9/?
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.
Warning: Angst. Not quite Tezuka/Fuji, yet.
A/N: Sorry another short chapter, but I’m working on longer ones.

Chapter 8






‘Hit just here to change the rotation.’


Tezuka tried to lose himself in the familiar choreography of tennis, letting his body keep precise rhythm with the dull percussion of the ball bouncing off the tight strings of his racket and hitting the wall. Everything in him was singularly focused on controlling the movement of the ball and his body.


He needed this very badly, the sense of order inherent in this game, because ever since Amy’s death and his return to Japan, his thoughts, perceptions and emotions have been spinning completely out of his grasp. First thing this morning, he crept out of the house leaving Hana with his mother and headed straight for the courts.




‘Turning and seeing Fuji in the arms of that man. Watching, with a surprising pang of hurt and jealousy, as he was held and kissed.’


‘Don’t think about him…he's already burned his bridges.’




“Damn it!”

Tezuka threw down his racket and glared at the ball as if it was the cause of every single one his problems. He sighed and ran his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, deciding to pack up and leave since it was obvious that he wasn’t going to be able shake off his troubles here. He guessed it was finally time to confront the ghosts of his past and figure out what he was going to do next.

Was he really ready to face the truth no matter how much it hurt or cost him? Was he ready to take the next step in his life?

He was about to find out.


Fuji braced both hands against the tiles and let the hot water sluice over his sore body. The sounds of Matsura climbing out of bed and getting dressed could be heard faintly over the steady hiss of the water.

“I’m leaving now.” Matsura announced as he walked boldly into the bathroom and opened the shower door.

Fuji didn’t bother to turn and look at Matsura; he just nodded to show that he had heard the comment. He could feel Matsura’s eyes boring into the back of his head while his hand followed the paths the water took over the lines of his body. Fuji bit his cheek to stifle the cry of pain as Matsura raked his nails over a fresh abrasion, probably caused by the edge of the kitchen counter when he was slammed into it.

“If I wasn’t already running late for work, I’d make you give me a kiss goodbye.” Matsura cupped his crotch so the meaning wouldn’t be lost on Fuji.

“Try sticking that thing anywhere near my mouth and I’ll bite it off.” Fuji threatened, weariness taking the sting out of his words.

“I’ll call you later, babe.” Matsura told him with a laugh as he closed the shower door and turned to leave. “Make sure you answer. I charged your phone last night, so not answering would only make me worry. You don’t wanna make me…worry, do you?”

“Of course not.” Fuji muttered.

“Didn’t think you would.” Was the reply. “Love you, babe.”

Fuji quickly washed in the rapidly cooling water, scrubbing his skin hard with the rough cloth. He dried hastily and wiped the steam off the full-length mirror attached to the back of the bathroom door. He studied his reflection, absently noting the new marks on his reddened skin.

“Love you, babe.” Matsura’s parting words tripped through Fuji head.

“Love me.” Fuji said to his reflection. Fuji was aware that Matsura meant it when he said it and that he did love Fuji in his own way, but his way was to treat Fuji as a possession he simply owned for his amusement. All too often Matsura felt the need to prove his ownership, both to himself and Fuji, with the welts and bruises that mapped the planes of his flesh.

Fuji pressed down on an especially deep bruise and winced. He knew that he was more intelligent than this, that he had the choices and resources to leave the relationship but he stayed because he wanted to. He didn’t make excuses for Matsura, he didn’t believe that he could change him, nor did he particularly want to, and he certainly didn’t care about the empty apologies or promises of never again that Matsura made after each episode of violence.

Fuji really didn’t fear Matsura, so he never felt the need to justify to himself the reason’s why he stayed. He really just didn’t care beyond the simple fact that he was in this relationship by his own choice because he wanted to be here. He stayed because sometimes the physical pain was the only feeling that could penetrate into the numb, static space he’s occupied for the last four years.

Everyone thought he was strong, but Fuji really knew how weak he was. How spectacularly he had fallen apart when Tezuka had thrown his love in his face and walked away from him that last time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his style to break down and cry and scream at the injustice of life; instead, he put on his smile and seemingly shrugged it off while he found ways to self destruct out of the watchful eyes of his friends.

“I love Amy, Fuji. Please, it would just be easier if you just accept it and let go.”

“I love you, babe. I only do this because you can’t seem to remember that you’re mine. It would just be easier on you if you accepted it.”

Sometimes Fuji felt he had the definition of love wrong. He knew that it hurt but having to choose between the emotional and the physical pain, Fuji preferred the physical. Physical pain was quickly over and it left a tangible mark upon his body, someplace he could point to and say, ‘see, that is what’s hurting me.’ then he could watch it heal and fade away.

Emotional pain left no proof of its existence, he couldn’t rip open his chest and say, ‘Tezuka, do you see what you did to me?’ and it didn’t simply fade away. It festered and twisted and scarred until the only thing he could do was ignore the aching throb. He could only pretend it wasn’t there and, when it got too bad, find something else to replace one pain with another. Like the old adage of stubbing your toe to get over a headache.

In a nutshell, he stayed with Matsura so he could constantly replace that never-ending pain with another kind.

Music:: Sexy Stream Liner- Buck Tick


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