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FIC: Fortnight || Making Room for More [Prince of Tennis; Sequel; Fuji/Kaidoh]
The productivity of the last couple days just goes to show that I will not get enough studying done for my finals after the break. Bloody wonderful.
Title: Fortnight (Alt Title: Making Room for More)
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters/Pairing: Fuji x Kaidoh, Ryoma
Rating: G
Summary: The rest of the world finds out. So long as the rest of the world means Ryoma.
x-posted to: this community
Apartment series: Ten Days || Figure || Fortnight || Corrective Measures
It's been two years since Ryoma saw Fuji lose spectacularly on television - in the clear, glittering detail that can only be brought about by high definition screens - and a year and six months since he'd seen Fuji redeem himself - live, that time, with him perched on the edge of his seat. Ryoma sees Fuji again, in person and close enough to touch, when they're on the verge of another Grand Slam. They're registering with their respective countries' teams - America for himself, and Japan for Fuji - and Ryoma can see a smile on his face.
It's the kind of smile he remembers on rainy days. Intense. Frightening, really, because Ryoma knows that when Fuji smiles like that, he's planning something slow and torturous.
Which is why Ryoma is thrown for a loop when he sees Kaidoh - decidedly not withering in that smile's path.
He'd heard the American players on his team talking about a scary looking translator for the Japanese team, but hadn't connected that with the long-old news of Kaidoh's English studies. Nonetheless, Kaidoh is the one speaking English - well-structured, grammatically correct from beginning to end, clearly enunciated English - to the registrar as he gathers forms and fills them out for the Japanese players.
It's a puzzle, so Ryoma cracks open a can of Ponta and sucks on it while he considers possibilities.
Kaidoh requests a reservation for a practice court. Fuji is peeking around Kaidoh's shoulder to see which hours he chooses. Ryoma can see Kaidoh checking off several late afternoon hours for the next day, and one more in the early morning.
"Quite a choice," says Fuji, in Japanese. His eyes are curled in amusement and that smile is still there. Ryoma shudders at the knowledge that Kaidoh is Fuji's target and that Kaidoh is still not running.
His old sempai has obviously lost all sense of self-preservation.
"Punishment," explains Kaidoh as he hands the clipboard back to the registrar, along with the completed forms, "for your bad behavior."
Fuji laughs - the quiet chuckle that's always preceded sudden, imminent defeat. "Do you really think you can handle me that early in the morning?" he asks. His fingers tease a thread off of Kaidoh's jacket and flick the offense away. "It won't be easy - least of all for you."
Kaidoh leans past Fuji to sign one last form and leads the Japanese team away from the tables with the tilt of his head, once again taking Fuji's presence in stride. Ryoma watches as Kaidoh puts a hand on Fuji's shoulder before leaning in to speak.
Ryoma sucks on his Ponta a little harder as conclusions snap into place and stares at the doorway they disappear through. He can't imagine what Kaidoh might of said - out of the numerous suggestions his mind hands to him - but it must have been something to have made Fuji shiver like that.
Title: Fortnight (Alt Title: Making Room for More)
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters/Pairing: Fuji x Kaidoh, Ryoma
Rating: G
Summary: The rest of the world finds out. So long as the rest of the world means Ryoma.
x-posted to: this community
Apartment series: Ten Days || Figure || Fortnight || Corrective Measures
It's been two years since Ryoma saw Fuji lose spectacularly on television - in the clear, glittering detail that can only be brought about by high definition screens - and a year and six months since he'd seen Fuji redeem himself - live, that time, with him perched on the edge of his seat. Ryoma sees Fuji again, in person and close enough to touch, when they're on the verge of another Grand Slam. They're registering with their respective countries' teams - America for himself, and Japan for Fuji - and Ryoma can see a smile on his face.
It's the kind of smile he remembers on rainy days. Intense. Frightening, really, because Ryoma knows that when Fuji smiles like that, he's planning something slow and torturous.
Which is why Ryoma is thrown for a loop when he sees Kaidoh - decidedly not withering in that smile's path.
He'd heard the American players on his team talking about a scary looking translator for the Japanese team, but hadn't connected that with the long-old news of Kaidoh's English studies. Nonetheless, Kaidoh is the one speaking English - well-structured, grammatically correct from beginning to end, clearly enunciated English - to the registrar as he gathers forms and fills them out for the Japanese players.
It's a puzzle, so Ryoma cracks open a can of Ponta and sucks on it while he considers possibilities.
Kaidoh requests a reservation for a practice court. Fuji is peeking around Kaidoh's shoulder to see which hours he chooses. Ryoma can see Kaidoh checking off several late afternoon hours for the next day, and one more in the early morning.
"Quite a choice," says Fuji, in Japanese. His eyes are curled in amusement and that smile is still there. Ryoma shudders at the knowledge that Kaidoh is Fuji's target and that Kaidoh is still not running.
His old sempai has obviously lost all sense of self-preservation.
"Punishment," explains Kaidoh as he hands the clipboard back to the registrar, along with the completed forms, "for your bad behavior."
Fuji laughs - the quiet chuckle that's always preceded sudden, imminent defeat. "Do you really think you can handle me that early in the morning?" he asks. His fingers tease a thread off of Kaidoh's jacket and flick the offense away. "It won't be easy - least of all for you."
Kaidoh leans past Fuji to sign one last form and leads the Japanese team away from the tables with the tilt of his head, once again taking Fuji's presence in stride. Ryoma watches as Kaidoh puts a hand on Fuji's shoulder before leaning in to speak.
Ryoma sucks on his Ponta a little harder as conclusions snap into place and stares at the doorway they disappear through. He can't imagine what Kaidoh might of said - out of the numerous suggestions his mind hands to him - but it must have been something to have made Fuji shiver like that.