Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Hourglasses ❯ Lost Dreams ( Chapter 7 )

Hourglasses

 

Chapter VII

 

“Hey…did I ever mention to anyone my extreme fear of heights?”

 

“Eiji, if you're so afraid why did you come up with us?”

 

“Because I didn't want to be all alone on the ground!”

 

Tezuka automatically disregarded his companions' chatter. While Kikumaru locked Oishi in a death grip, the latter attempted to balance himself lest the redhead manage to drag them both down the ledge in a very unsightly manner. Nearby Fuji was chuckling to himself and offering no aid whatsoever while Inui gave a lecture on the proper technique to use when skiing to a very attentive Kawamura, Momoshiro, and Kaidou. The three of them gaped at the bespectacled man as he described the dangers of skiing without poles.

 

A quick glance was all it took for Tezuka to realize that their youngest companion was missing. Tezuka didn't know whether he should have been more frustrated or amused. Either way, one thing was obvious: Ryoma required a leash.

 

“You said you've skied before!” exclaimed Oishi as he finally succeeded in dragging himself and his partner away from the treacherous ledge.

 

Kikumaru balled his fists. “I have! But this is an advanced trail! I'm only intermediate!”

 

“Eiji, weren't you paying attention to the instructor before we got here?” Fuji finally quipped. “He did give us proper warning.”

 

The redhead looked appalled. “No way! I told him we were intermediates! He said this would be a good trail for us!”

 

“Maybe a misunderstanding occurred,” mused Fuji, though his widening smile did little to reassure Kikumaru.

 

“This isn't funny, Fuji!” he wailed. Then his anger resumed. “That guy lied to us! Let's head back down and tell him off!”

 

Kikumaru managed to move about one foot before his poles caught onto his skies, resulting in him falling sideways into the snow with a crunch. Oishi sighed deeply.

 

“Eiji—”

 

But his words stopped short once a snowball landed squarely in his face. Kikumaru quickly detached himself from the skies and stood up with resounding pliancy, laughing as he prepared another attack on the sputtering Oishi.

 

“Snowball fight!” His war cry was sounded and Momoshiro was the first to react, catching Kaidou off guard when he launched a snowball at his head. It took the Mamushi several seconds to recover but by that time he was seething. And all mayhem ensued. While Kikumaru, Momoshiro, and Kaidou attacked one another, and a protesting Oishi, mercilessly, Inui resumed his lecture with Kawamura as his exclusive audience whereas Fuji chuckled at the expense of the others.

 

Tezuka watched the scene unfold in his usual distant manner. Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he idly wondered exactly how old his friends were and why it seemed they had matured little in the past decade. He felt the slight tug of old habit telling him to stop the mess but ignored it. They were all adults now. He wasn't responsible for their actions anymore. And he trusted them to not go overboard—he hoped they wouldn't at least. Tezuka turned around and started when he caught Ryoma staring at him, a grin sprawled over his face.

 

“You're not going to stop them?” the golden-eyed man asked, arching an eyebrow.

 

“They're old enough to take care of themselves.”

 

Ryoma snorted and glanced at Kikumaru as he wrestled Momoshiro down into the snow. “You don't really believe that do you?”

 

A smile tugged on the corner of Tezuka's lips. “Depends on my mood.”

 

“I suppose we have to head back down.”

 

“Yes.” Tezuka frowned slightly. How were they guided to such a remote area in the first place? Kikumaru had made their standings very clear. Did the instructor really misunderstand him? Tezuka thought that was almost impossible. Kikumaru was one of the loudest among them but unlike Momoshiro, he possessed more etiquette. He made sure his demands were always heard. It didn't seem likely for such a misunderstanding to occur. Tezuka shook his head. Perhaps he was reading into this too much.

 

“But since we're here…why not try out this so-called Dead Man's Ledge?” Ryoma glibly asked.

 

Tezuka looked at him. “Can you, first of all?”

 

Ryoma shrugged. “Can't be that hard, right?”

 

“Ryoma…”

 

“Ochibi!”

 

The younger man's smirk disappeared once he saw Kikumaru running towards him, Momoshiro in tow. Both of them looked decisively poised to kill as they raised their arms and launched their snowballs into the air.

 

Ryoma skied over to the snowy ledge as the assault barely missed him and grinned. “I'll catch you at the bottom!”

 

Tezuka barely managed to utter a word in response before the younger man winked at him cheekily and gave a strong push with his poles to fly over the cliff.

 

Kikumaru looked aghast. “Ochibi!” he cried, almost sure the young man would hurt himself. He ran to the edge and looked down in horror. “Ochibi, I'm sorry! We only—whoa, Ochibi!”

 

His dismay transformed into awe as he saw Ryoma skiing down the snowy mountain with ease, twisting and maneuvering his way around the trail with obvious expertise. Kikumaru gave an ear-piercing whistle with two of his fingers. “Go, Ochibi!”

 

“Hey, I didn't know Echizen was that good of a skier,” Momoshiro wondered out loud.

 

“He's qualified as a ski instructor,” informed Inui as he plucked out a small notebook from his pocket. “He got his license a few months ago.”

 

“What? That bastard! And he left us here to show off!”

 

Inui adjusted his glasses. “It would seem so.”

 

“Dammit, where's that lift? Let's go and beat him up!” Momoshiro looked around wildly and began heading back in the direction of the ski lift. Kikumaru soon joined him and Oishi followed in his attempt to maintain peace.

 

“Well, that was fun. Maybe now we can get some proper skiing done,” Fuji remarked.

 

“Ryoma's really amazing. To think that he could get a license for becoming an instructor while he was a full-time tennis pro!” exclaimed Kawamura.

 

Fuji shrugged. “Tennis can't be played all the time.”

 

“He certainly managed to get the others moving, though. Who knows how long they would have stayed up here playing with the snow if he hadn't interrupted,” Inui said.

 

Fuji laughed. “That's true.”

 

He paused when he noticed one of their own was missing. He turned around and looked at Tezuka, who still stood by the ledge, staring at the distance calmly. Fuji looked at his friend curiously. “Is something wrong, Tezuka?” he asked. Inui and Kawamura paused in their tracks.

 

Tezuka's reply was standard. “I'm fine. You can go on ahead. I think I'll stay here for a while longer.”

 

Fuji remained quiet. Then he smiled. “All right. We'll see you later,” he said.

 

Following their friend's cue Inui and Kawamura didn't ask any questions and simply left with Fuji. Tezuka smiled at their unusual acquiescence. It seemed they understood him more than he gave them credit for. He then looked towards the horizon again, breathing in deeply. This was peace. This was the solitude Tezuka could never find anywhere else. He needed it now more than ever. Taking off his skies, he walked over to a nearby boulder and dusted it off before sitting. He leaned his head back to face the gray sky.

 

“Now where to begin?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Oh yeah, this is what I'm talking about,” sighed Momoshiro. “Nothing beats a hard day's worth of trudging in the cold than a trip to an onsen.”

 

The others were too busy absorbing the water's rejuvenating properties into their stiff joints to provide proper response. For once they were all silent and only the light trickling of water from a distant fountain broke the trance.

 

Then Kikumaru stirred and he lifted his half-submerged head from the water to look at Fuji inquisitively. “Oh yeah, where did Tezuka go? He didn't come back with you before.”

 

Fuji's relaxed expression didn't change as he replied. “Oh, he stayed up in the mountain. Don't know why, though,” he said loftily.

 

“You don't know why? That's not like you, Fuji!”

 

“Even I can't invade his space too much, Eiji. Whatever his reasons were, they're his own.”

 

“But we haven't seen him all day and it's night now. Are you sure he came back down?” queried Kikumaru, growing worried now.

 

Fuji opened his eyes. “I doubt he's still up there. Tezuka's not careless like that.”

 

“Hardly anyone was there when we were; it's an advanced trail. If he injured himself he wouldn't be able to call for help. The lifts were pretty far off from the site we were at,” Oishi suddenly exclaimed.

 

An uneasy silence reigned over them for a while. When the door to the bathhouse suddenly burst open, they all jumped. Ryoma padded quietly into the room, yawning.

 

“I thought you guys would be louder. But this silence is actually kind of scary.”

 

Oishi looked at the younger man in concern. “Echizen, did you see Tezuka by any chance?”

 

“No.” Ryoma stretched his limbs before lowering himself into the water slowly, drinking up the heat contentedly. He leaned his head back against the edge and closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

 

“No one here has seen Tezuka all day since we left Dead Man's Ledge.”

 

Ryoma's eyes didn't open. “So?”

 

“It's strange that you wouldn't have seen him. You two are sharing rooms, right?” asked Inui.

 

“Yeah, but I haven't been by our room all day,” replied Ryoma.

 

“What if Tezuka's in trouble?” Kikumaru declared suddenly.

 

“We gotta find him!” added Kaidou.

 

“Let's go!” cried Momoshiro.

 

The three of them stood up and looked ready for action.

 

“Wait,” drawled Ryoma, finally opening his eyes, “I remember now. I saw him an hour ago. He was at the lounge reading.”

 

Momoshiro, Kikumaru, and Kaidou appeared on the verge of murdering the younger man if it hadn't been for Oishi's tactful interference.

 

“Come on, guys! We've been here long enough. Let's go see what Tezuka's up to, okay?”

 

This managed to diffuse the three's tempers somewhat and their murdering glares settled down to simple resentment.

 

“You guys can go. I just got here. I'm staying,” Ryoma said offhandedly.

 

Oishi, with the help of Kawamura, managed to prevent Kikumaru and Momoshiro from doing any unnecessary damage to Ryoma while Inui said some words to Kaidou about “trying out a new drink later” that completely obliterated the man's will for any vengeance.

 

“Right, Echizen, we'll catch up with you later!”

 

With that Oishi and the others left. Only Fuji remained in the room and he watched Ryoma with a critical eye.

 

“You know…it would almost seem as if you're avoiding Tezuka.”

 

He didn't get any response from the younger man. Fuji smiled and stood up, wrapping a towel around his waist. He walked over to the exit before stopping.

 

“I can only help you so much, Ryoma. Ultimately, it's up to you to finish the rest.”

 

With that, he left the other man alone. After some time, Ryoma opened his eyes. He stared at the blank ceiling. “Calling me by my first name… Does that mean you're no longer going to interfere? So that means you trust me enough to take care of him by myself.” Ryoma smiled. “All right, Syusuke. I'll try not to disappoint.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Tezuka would have to remind himself for future reference to never spend an entire day sitting on a rock. It did wonders to his lower back. Even now he was wincing every time he stood up and sat back down. Well, such was life. You can't get everything you want, his grandmother once said to him. It was one of the many wise words she parted to him before she passed away. Tezuka closed his book with a sigh and looked out the window. It was a beautiful lodge. And it was fortunate that Fuji's aunt and uncle ran it otherwise they would have never been able to afford staying here. As such, because of their connections, they had been given the best accommodations.

 

“Tezuka! Next time you want to scare us half to death do it after I die!”

 

Those had been Kikumaru's words when he and the others burst into the lounge half an hour ago. Fortunately, Tezuka had been the only one there besides the couple who ran the snack counter. After a few minutes of severe chastising, which Tezuka never expected to receive from Kikumaru of all people, everyone else calmed down and settled around the spacious room. Tezuka stayed for only a little longer before setting off for bed.

 

And yet here he was, perched by the window seat, a hot cup of water sitting not too far away from his reach, and definitely not ready to sleep any time soon. He pushed his glasses up and watched as snow began falling from the sky. He had been thinking the entire day. He had told Ryoma he would have his answer by the end of the trip. Today was now almost over and they would be leaving tomorrow evening. Tezuka wasn't so sure if he was ready to give his answer. Needless to say, he had been thinking about it for the past week almost nonstop. Try as he might, ignoring Ryoma was an extremely difficult thing to do—even with the man not physically present before him.

 

He folded his arms around a propped up leg. He told himself he would be completely honest. And deep down he already knew the answer from the beginning. But it scared him greatly. He was accustomed to dealing with things alone. Even with his friends' support, it was always just that—comradely, safe, and different from letting just one person into his heart. Tezuka wasn't sure if he wanted that even if he did trust the individual.

 

Why am I so afraid? That question had ran through his head so many times today that Tezuka almost would have welcomed Momoshiro and Kikumaru's loud chatter if only to drown out the sound of that one unanswerable inquiry. Because he honestly didn't know why. Or if he did, he wouldn't allow himself to admit it.

 

“Reading again I see.”

 

Tezuka looked up as Ryoma walked in, hair wet and flecks of water making damp spots on his tee shirt. Automatically, Tezuka walked over and reached for a towel in his dresser before tossing it over to the younger man. “Dry your hair. You'll get sick.”

 

Ryoma cracked a smile. “Says the guy who sat up in the mountains by himself all day.”

 

Tezuka chose not to respond and sat back down on his bed, taking his water with him. Ryoma quickly dried off his hair and sat down across from the older man. He stared at Tezuka as he took several long sips from his mug and grinned.

 

“So why did you spend the whole day alone?”

 

He was being unusually talkative. Ryoma knew this but didn't care. Because Tezuka was being unusually cold. And that prompted him to find out why.

 

“I needed some time to clear my head.”

 

Ryoma hid his smile and adopted a more casual expression. “Really. Did you accomplish your task?”

 

“Not exactly.”

 

“Too bad. Mind sharing?”

 

“No.”

 

Tezuka could practically see Ryoma's smug expression without even looking. This was it—the very thing he shirked away from. His friends knew never to ask too many personal questions. Fuji and Oishi were the only two exceptions to that rule but even they knew when to draw the line. Inui, Tezuka found out, always simply knew and never even bothered to ask. He interfered seldom and only when Tezuka really needed the head-butting. But Ryoma disregarded everything and did things his own way. Dug in too deep and penetratingly sometimes—and Tezuka wasn't sure how to respond because he had never been in such a situation before.

 

“Thinking only to yourself is going to mess you up one day.”

 

At this Tezuka looked up and caught Ryoma's expression. For once the golden eyes weren't filled with amusement or sarcasm. Instead, they stared back at Tezuka with almost frightening intensity—the kind of intensity Ryoma generally reserved only for the tennis court.

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

Tezuka was allowing Ryoma to run this conversation. Partly because he was mildly interested in hearing what the other man had to say and partly because he himself had nothing else to offer.

 

“It's obvious isn't it? If you keep yourself to yourself, you're going to miss out on everything,” Ryoma said.

 

“People can't help their fear.”

 

Golden eyes flashed. “So what? Are they going to continue living in the shadow of fear? That's ridiculous. What are they afraid of? They have friends, family, dreams—”

 

“Attachments. Devotion. Full trust in someone else but themselves. Like going for a dream, all of it can betray them one day, leaving them empty and broken. Recovery is never complete,” interrupted Tezuka, slipping back into the shell of his past. He knew where all of this was heading and he also knew exactly who both he and Ryoma were talking about. Strange how the conversation had begun so humbly and now was escalating into something of greater significance.

 

Ryoma watched him. “Like a dream, huh? So, does this have anything to do with you four years ago?”

 

And now the masquerade had ended. Ryoma had asked the very question Tezuka knew would come eventually. He berated himself for permitting the conversation to go on in this manner for so long.

 

“You're still on that,” he said, deadpanned.

 

“Well, it seems no one else wants to tell me. And it's really your story to share, isn't it?” retorted Ryoma, shrugging. “I don't know what could have happened, but apparently it affected you pretty badly. You're even harder to reach than the time you were in Germany.”

 

“Is that what you think?”

 

“No, it's what I know. And you know it too because you're the perpetrator,” was Ryoma's swift accusation. “You're doing it on purpose too, if I might add.”

 

Tezuka blinked. Where is this leading to now? He had no idea how he had fallen so easily into Ryoma's trap. But now there was no use in trying to escape. To do so would be cowardly and all the more disrespectful to Ryoma—who, despite everything else—was still his friend. So Tezuka finished his drink and folded his hands neatly in his lap.

 

“I'll tell you what happened then.”

 

Ryoma looked surprised. Tezuka couldn't fathom why. Perhaps it was because the younger man expected more of an argument from him. But that was hardly Tezuka's preferred course of action. Debating was not in his nature.

 

The golden-eyed man took a seat on the carpeted floor, peering up at Tezuka expectantly. His expression was wiped clean and Tezuka had no clue as to what Ryoma was thinking.

 

“Four years ago I was selected to participate in the U.S. Open,” he began, “but something happened the morning I was to take off.”

 

“I had heard you were coming to participate. I wondered why you didn't,” Ryoma idly commented.

 

Tezuka nodded, his expression grim. “The taxi I was in got into an accident. It was raining that morning so the roads were especially hazardous. A speeding car skidded down the road and we were caught in its path.”

 

Ryoma's eyes widened. “Were you—?”

 

“The other car's occupants received minor injuries. My driver broke his arm and I was thrown from the cab,” concluded Tezuka.

 

The tension could have been cut with a knife. Ryoma shifted in his place, frowning deeply. “Nobody told me,” he said quietly.

 

“You were in the States. And that was during the time you were just beginning to rise in prominence. The others wanted to spare you from the news—and I'm glad they did.”

 

“Why?” Ryoma's eyes glared at Tezuka.

 

Tezuka stared back at him evenly. “Why do you think?”

 

Ryoma shook his head. “I know we were never that close, but I would have thought—”

 

“The others didn't tell you because they didn't want you to come back and ruin your chances of progressing further in your career.”

 

“And you?”

 

“I was unconscious for a week. I didn't really have say in the matter.”

 

“A week?” Ryoma's anger gave way to shock. “How badly were you injured?”

 

Tezuka thought to himself for some time. If he had to be honest it wasn't the accident itself that had scared him. It was the thought of coming so close to death that made him shudder. After the crash his entire perspective on life changed. “I suffered some major injuries. I had to undergo six months of physical therapy before I was released,” he said offhandedly.

 

“Six months. But you're completely fine now, right?”

 

“Yes, I was very lucky. Even my doctors were surprised I had managed a complete recovery after such a horrible accident.”

 

Tezuka spoke in an extremely laidback manner. It was something that disturbed Ryoma. This accident, according to both Fuji and Atobe, had changed Tezuka—and yet here he was talking about in the most uncaring manner possible. Or was there something else to the whole picture? Ryoma frowned.

 

“So why didn't anyone tell me afterwards? And why didn't you go back to tennis?”

 

A sharp look entered Tezuka's eyes. Ryoma knew he had hit the jackpot this time.

 

“Like I said before, I didn't want to distract you from your goals. As for tennis… I decided it was no longer as important.”

 

Ryoma arched an eyebrow. “No longer important as what?”

 

“Life.”

 

“What?”

 

Out of all the possible answers swimming around in Ryoma's head, Tezuka's response was the last thing he would have imagined. “What are you talking about?” He was growing impatient and annoyed. Ryoma breathed in deeply and tried to relax, but Tezuka was truly becoming frustrating.

 

“It's getting late. We should get some sleep; we have an early start tomorrow.”

 

Ryoma narrowed his eyes. “We're not finished,” he all but growled.

 

Tezuka watched him stoically. “I told you what you wanted to know,” he said with finality.

 

This was why he was such a good captain. No one could stand up to him when he used that tone. But Ryoma was past listening to initial instincts shouting at him to obey the older man—damn the consequences. “No, you didn't. You just explained the circumstances. But I still don't know why you abandoned tennis.”

 

If looks could kill. Ryoma almost flinched when Tezuka looked at him again. The iciness and cold fury were almost more than enough to make him lose his will. Ryoma stayed his ground, though, and Tezuka stared at him for one long moment—a moment that made Ryoma wonder if the older man was even human. Such was the impassiveness in Tezuka's bearing that made him seem nonliving—a perfect sculpture of emotionless beauty. It pained Ryoma.

 

“You're lucky, Ryoma…to be able to see your dreams so clearly. I have lost that ability.”

 

Then he settled into his bed, back turned against Ryoma, and turned off the lights.

 

Ryoma sat alone in the darkness, staring at the huddled form of the man before him, confused and hesitant. He remained on the floor even after ten minutes had passed, simply watching Tezuka's outline silhouetted against the weak light pouring from the window. Snow still fell from the gray sky and Ryoma watched the fat flakes dust the glass. It seemed an eternity had gone by before he finally stirred. But he didn't go to bed. He stepped out of the room and lingered by the door for a few seconds, seeing the light from the bright hallway cast his shadow against the far side of the room.

 

“Good night,” he said, faltering, and then adding, “I'm sorry.”

 

He closed the door with a barely audible click and walked a few short meters away from the room before leaning against the wall tiredly. Ryoma rested a palm over his eyes. “This turned out to be deeper than I thought. Damn you, Syusuke. You never warned be about this.”

 

Ryoma looked back at the room. He had underestimated how much Tezuka was unwilling to break out of his shell—and now he was beginning to understand why. The only question left now was how he was going to shatter Tezuka's facades and make the older man realize what a complete fool he was being. Initially, this had started out almost like a joke, Ryoma asking Tezuka out in front of everyone at the café. But now it had turned into something else altogether. Ryoma was being honest when he said he was interested in Tezuka, but somewhere along the way he had been charmed into feeling something more for the older man. It had begun as a random whim, supported wholly by Fuji, but was culminating in something more serious. Ryoma no longer cared if Tezuka reciprocated his feelings. He just wanted to help. The older man had always provided inspiration and guidance to his peers, and now it was Ryoma's turn to return the favor.

 

“Aspirin?”

 

Ryoma opened his eyes and saw Inui approach him with a tiny capsule in hand. “Why do you think I need it?” he asked, staring at the older man oddly.

 

Inui shrugged. “You looked like you had a headache. My mistake.”

 

“Did you know Kunimitsu was this stubborn?”

 

The question had come out on its own. Ryoma didn't look at Inui as he waited for an answer.

 

A deep chuckle filled his ears, causing Ryoma to look up as Inui gave an amused smile. “Of course. I've been observing him for over ten years now after all. But despite all our hard work and sweat, we've failed miserably. I know now that only you will succeed where we could not. Good night, Echizen.” With that cryptic message Inui continued his way down the hall until disappearing into his own room silently.

 

Ryoma smiled to himself, still staring at the spot where Inui stood.

 

“Well, it seems everyone's rooting for me. I guess I have to try harder.” An unbidden memory surfaced his mind.

 

Nanjirou grinned at a five-year-old Ryoma trying to serve a ball over the net. “The sands are falling, shounen. What the heck are you waiting for? Just do it already.”

 

With a rapid turn Ryoma headed back to his and Tezuka's room and slammed the door open, turning on the lights. Almost at once the older man sat up, looking at him in alarm.

 

“Did something happen?”

 

“You could say that.”

 

Apprehension clouded Tezuka's eyes and Ryoma stepped forward, kneeling down beside his bed.

 

“You really think this is going to protect you?” he asked, eyes dark and hidden.

 

Tezuka frowned. “What are you—?”

 

He was silenced when a pair of lips met his own, however. The force was powerful and moving—Tezuka was stunned. But like lightning its ephemeral effects were soon gone and he was gazing into golden orbs once again. Ryoma's hands were on either side of his face, and he was smiling at Tezuka in the most open way he had ever seen from the younger man.

 

“I'll show you. I'll show you what's wrong. I'll light a fire in your soul like you did mine ten years ago.”

 

TBC