(no subject)

[asael]

The first 10 people to comment on this post get to request a drabble (real drabble: 100 words exactly [more or less]) from you. In return, they have to post this in their journal and write a drabble for you. Post all fandoms you're willing to write for:

First, things that are not true:
1) I doubt I'll get 10 people, so request more than one if you want, as my writing no jutsu is strong these days.
2) I can't do word limits. I'll write however many words I want, so take that, drabble meme!
3) You don't have to post this in return unless you want to.

Oh, right... fandoms I'm willing to write for. Hmm.

Prince of Tennis
Naruto
HunterxHunter
Hell, any silly shounen series I know enough about to write for
CLAMP in general
What the hell, most of you guys know what I can/will write for. ASK FOR WHATEVER YOU WANT. If I can't do it for some reason, I'll ask for a different request.

No. Really. ANYTHING YOU WANT. Unless it's a pairing that makes me want to die inside.

Comments

#2

[asael.livejournal.com]

FOR YOUR SECOND REQUEST. I'm pretty sure this isn't what you wanted, but... I have no idea why I wrote it. o.o I don't even know if I like it. Hmm.

---

Tezuka cared for the cactus on his windowsill very carefully. It didn't flourish, but he managed to keep it from dying. Tezuka had to admit that he wasn't terribly good at taking care of plants.

By now, he had also been forced to admit that he wasn't very good at taking care of people, either. He could inspire, he could push people to their limits and beyond, but he couldn't quite relate in day-to-day life. He was the type to focus inwardly, and most other people found that very difficult to deal with, while at the same time admiring him for his drive.

Fuji had not. Fuji had admired him, of course, but since Fuji didn't particularly want to be as driven as Tezuka was, it had always been a detached sort of admiration. The kind that said 'Good for you, but I'm perfectly happy the way I am'.

Fuji had also not found Tezuka particularly difficult to deal with. He would smile, and manage to cajole Tezuka into all sorts of things that he normally wouldn't do. Occasionally it was annoying, but more often Tezuka actually ended up enjoying it.

Fuji had done those things throughout junior high and into high school, treating Tezuka with no more respect then he showed anyone else- except on the courts, where Fuji deferred to his authority as captain. Usually.

They had ended up as roommates in college, and eventually became lovers. Tezuka hadn't been sure why, at first. He was sure they weren't in love, and nothing really changed. They acted exactly the same towards each other, except for the sex. After the first time, Tezuka had asked why, and Fuji had only smiled, shrugged, and said "Wasn't it fun?" After that, he didn't ask again.

It hadn't lasted, of course. As an only son, Tezuka had always intended to get married. After graduation, he was introduced to a nice young woman by his parents, and they became engaged not long afterward. Sometime between the meeting and the engagement, Fuji had smiled at him, as usual, and said that he had been accepted to graduate school in America. He left within a month, without even meeting Tezuka's fiancee.

They only saw each other once after that, although they exchanged emails from time to time. Tezuka invited Fuji to his wedding, and Fuji declined, saying that it was unfortunately during his finals week. He couldn't reschedule, but he was very sorry, and offered his congratulations.

Almost a year after that, when Tezuka's son was about to be born, Tezuka ran into Fuji. At the time, he thought it was a chance encounter, although in retrospect he doubted it. Fuji had not returned to Japan once since he'd left, and he usually had reasons for everything.

That meeting ended in a hotel room, wedding band on the nightstand and Fuji's soft cries filling the silence. That night, Tezuka realized what he had been missing for the past two years, and at the same time realized there was no way to fix it. He had chosen his path.

The next morning, Fuji left with a smile, but without looking back. A week later, the cactus arrived on Tezuka's doorstep, complete with a small bow and instruction on its care.

Four years later, he hadn't seen Fuji since. Occasionally, he would get a postcard, but as always with Fuji, they said nothing of any substance. He knew, from talking to Eiji occasionally, that Fuji did not date and had never really seemed interested in relationships. Eiji thought it was because Fuji didn't want to be tied down. Tezuka knew that wasn't it.

He thought occasionally about what could have happened, if only he had realized things a bit sooner. There was no use dwelling on might-have-beens, so he went on with his life. But he took careful care of the cactus, as if it was the last hold his dreams had.