Fandom/Pairing: TeniPuri: Tezuka/Fuji
Theme: Seven Cardinal Virtues: Fortitude
Word Count: 350
Disclaimer: The owners of PoT own PoT.
Fuji drinks from his bottle, sweating after a decent match, and walks toward his Captain. He felt those eyes on him the entire time, and it fills him with a thrill that surpasses even the best of games.
He can hear the talk of his teammates as he passes them by and wonders if they think they're being subtle or if they don't care if he hears the gossip about him, Tezuka.
It makes him smile to be likened to a hero, a warrior strong and brave, willing to face down the untouchable Captain of his team. Some of them claim it runs along the same vein of his taste for wasabi, or his tolerance of Inui Juice, asserting that he's some sort of sadist, flaunting his ability to not succumb in front of the world.
Sadism has nothing to do with it, but, if he were to label himself anything, it'd be masochistic, weak. He stands by his Captain not to prove anything to anyone, but because he feels bereft without him by his side.
He does nothing but succumb. He stands tall in his matches, but is left on his knees by one cold look. Fuji smiles and murmurs soft words to Tezuka as they watch the next game, feeling connected to him in the only he can in public, the only way acceptable to the world, and he feels the strain.
Fuji's not strong like his Captain, unmindful of taunts and jeers; he's not perfect like Tezuka Kunimitsu. He plays and wins and fails and smiles and pretends and hides and lies and Tezuka's the only one to see through it all.
And then, sometimes, there's only one thing he wants to focus on, to learn. Fuji knows Tezuka Kunimitsu because often times it's the only thing Fuji deems important enough.
He knows every inch of his body, where to bite, where to kiss, where to lick. He knows what words to say, and when, the tone, the volume, the sincerity. He knows his mind, his thoughts, or, at least, he thinks he does. He hopes so.