For the 30_kisses challenge.
Theme: #12- In a good mood.


After his entrance assessment at the beginning of his high school career, Ryoma is moved to accelerated English, and that’s good, because on the first day he sits next to the only person in the class he knows, Tezuka. Then he sits next to him for the rest of the term, learning about the way Tezuka organizes his desk and puts his name neatly in the top right-hand corner of his paper. Ryoma starts doing that too.

Sometimes he and Tezuka walk out together, and sometimes when Tezuka wants to talk about a problem he will casually turn and discuss it with Ryoma. Ryoma has been following Tezuka’s example so steadily it is second nature to follow him in this as well, except that Ryoma apparently has more to talk about than just English. He soon finds himself casually turning to discuss international tennis, or what’s for lunch that day, or if Tezuka is as sick of girls following him around, mooning because he’s a tennis player, as Ryoma is.

Ryoma is often irritated about the last thing, because he has to pass by the Home Ec room on his way to English, and the girls coming out of the classroom always see him and giggle much too loudly. Tezuka finally remarks one day, “Don’t change your route to class. You may appreciate it soon.” Ryoma knows he is being gently teased, and he is impressed and somewhat flattered that Tezuka would make such a gesture. It means something, though at the moment he is still too annoyed, and certain that squealing fangirls are never something he will appreciate, to stop and think about Tezuka-Buchou teasing him and him alone.

Tezuka, this year, is not technically Ryoma’s captain, and has very sharply ordered him not to refer to him as “Buchou,” as that title currently belongs to another Seigaku high third-year who is, in Ryoma’s opinion, a much weaker player than either he or Tezuka, and whose leadership skills are lacking in ways that mean the entire tennis club is leaning heavily upon their new regulars for support. Tezuka is delivering, empowering their captain in ways that only Tezuka can, without obviously undermining his authority. But Ryoma can’t stop thinking of him as “Buchou,” and therefore refrains from calling him anything at all if he can help it. “Senpai” doesn’t go far enough. Not for Tezuka.

Still, the order from Tezuka not to call him captain has increased Ryoma’s awareness that they are no longer mentor and mentee, at least officially, and this, combined with the daily conversations they have started to have in English class, gives him an added boldness, which is never a bad thing where Tezuka is concerned. He talks to Tezuka about whatever he can think of, and experiences a minor rush of surprise every day when Tezuka always responds. He learns in this way that Tezuka likes Russian novels as well as American, that he goes fishing with his grandfather every Sunday, that he hates most Japanese pop music and much prefers the traditional style, and that he has never read a volume of manga in his life. Tezuka usually begins the class reading whatever book he has checked out of the library; but Ryoma notes over time that he has taken to closing it whenever Ryoma comes in the room.

Tezuka always speaks to him in formal Japanese, but occasionally their teacher will partner them off and direct them to hold conversations in English. Ryoma likes these moments more than any other, because Tezuka is the only student he knows whose English is anywhere near Ryoma’s own level, and it is always a rare thrill to speak it freely the way he did in the states. Tezuka makes English sound graceful—he makes it sophisticated in ways Ryoma, who grew up with the language, cannot fully grasp except when he hears Tezuka speak it. He listens attentively for the rise and fall of Tezuka’s voice, and sometimes concentrates so completely on the sound of it, to the way he shapes his vowels, to the minor and major cadences of every phrase, that he misses the meaning completely.

Tezuka’s English is almost flawless, but underneath his speech, Ryoma gradually learns to detect a slight amount of halting. It is barely noticeable, except that once Ryoma notices it, he can’t concentrate on anything else.

“Buchou,” he says softly one day as they are coming out of English class.

“Address me correctly, Echizen,” says Tezuka, but Ryoma notes that he doesn’t sound mad. He has stopped and turned, and people brush past them in the corridor around them while he looks down at Ryoma, who has grown, but not enough to be eye to eye with Tezuka.

“Senpai,” Ryoma amends. “You worry too much about being careful.”

Tezuka’s eyebrows lift, but he lets Ryoma finish.

“Your English would be even better if you didn’t think about it so much,” Ryoma says.

He has never given Tezuka advice before—not like this; and the fact that he has been pondering saying this for three weeks does not make the occasion any less momentous. His eyes are always trained to Tezuka’s face out of habit, because any reaction Tezuka has will be miniscule; a person needs to study it to be able to read it. Ryoma is lucky that Tezuka never seems to feel Ryoma’s stare.

Tezuka blinks behind his narrow glasses, and says, “Thank you, Echizen,” politely. Ryoma had not expected Tezuka to be offended, but the knowledge that he isn’t still hits him in a wave of relief.

The following week Tezuka invites Ryoma to his house for dinner in order to practice for the English mid-term. Ryoma accepts, and walks around grinning all day, because Tezuka’s house is exactly like Tezuka—it is an honor to be invited in.

“You look so young when you smile, Kunimitsu,” his mother tells Tezuka that night at dinner. The reproach—that he should do it more often—is left unspoken, and Ryoma cannot refrain from glancing up at Tezuka to see how young Tezuka actually can look.

Young isn’t quite the word for it, he discovers when their eyes meet. It’s more like mesmerizing.


At Christmas Ryoma gives gifts to the entire tennis team. He gets a bonsai plant for Fuji, a Gackt poster for Eiji, and a bicycle pack for Momo. He waits, however, to give Tezuka his present, because Tezuka has taken to inviting him over once a week or so to study and have dinner.

It’s silly to feel as excited as he does when Tezuka unwraps his gift and stares at it for a moment. “Echizen,” he says.

Ryoma has gotten Tezuka a pocket watch which also doubles as a compass. It is in a silver case with a fob and chain, and apart from the fact that he knows Tezuka would appreciate it because it is practical, Ryoma knows somehow that it suits him. He knows it the way he knows the color of Tezuka’s eyes behind his glasses, and the way Tezuka’s tone of voice shifts ever so slightly when he is happy.

“For your hiking trips,” he says.

Tezuka looks at him for a long moment and says, “Thank you,” and his voice tells Ryoma that he means it quite a lot. Ryoma is suddenly overcome by the thought that Tezuka might lean in and kiss him, and the thought hits him with such force that he is surprised and slightly abashed when Tezuka moves away and reaches for his own present beneath the tree.

It is wrapped in plain paper with no ribbon or bow, and it is obviously a book, a thick, heavy book. Ryoma unwraps it thinking that, whatever it is, he will read it from cover to cover. He is slightly taken aback when he sees the spine.

“Complete works of Shakespeare,” he reads aloud, in English. And then he looks up at Tezuka, because this edition is in English.

Tezuka reads his confusion, and an unforgettable look of amusement and warmth sweeps over his expression. It is a look that does all kinds of interesting things to the knots in Ryoma’s stomach.

“Shakespeare is the most difficult thing to master in English,” Tezuka says. “I wanted you to have something to aspire to.”

Ryoma has taken off his cap, and he wishes for a moment that he hadn’t: his smile feels awkward and exposed. He flips through the volume, a magnificent copy in gilded lettering and footnotes that feels altogether too elegant for him but exactly like Tezuka, and pauses at a random page, which turns out to be Henry V. He reads, haltingly: “‘…if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is music and thy English broken; therefore, queen of all, Katherine, break thy mind to me in broken English—wilt thou have me?’”

He starts to read Kate’s reply, pauses, and wrinkles his nose. “Now I have to learn French, too,” he says. Tezuka laughs, a low, light chuckle, and leans over the book to run his long fingers down the page and halt a few paragraphs below. Ryoma suddenly has goose bumps.

“I don’t think anyone will mind if you skip to the good parts,” Tezuka says, and he reads, in English, in that smooth, sophisticated voice that makes the language something completely new and appealing all over again to Ryoma. “‘We are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouth of all find-faults, as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country in denying me a kiss; therefore patiently and yielding.’”

Tezuka pauses, rather than read the following stage direction, and Ryoma again thinks that they are close enough to carry it out, close enough to turn their heads and kiss.

The realization washes over Ryoma that he wants to kiss Tezuka, very badly, and has probably wanted to for a very, very long time.

“‘You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate,’” Tezuka continues, speaking a bit more softly. “‘There is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council.’” He stops here, which is a good thing, because if he keeps reading like that much longer Ryoma might have to leave very suddenly, and then he turns his head and says in Ryoma’s ear, “Has my English gotten better?”

Ryoma has never quite fully appreciated that playing tennis has taught him extreme presence of mind and self-control before this very second. Six hours of practice and thousands of tennis balls a day since he was seven have all led up to this moment in which he somehow manages to avoid an instant erection and narrowly escapes doing something crazy like climbing into Tezuka’s lap and showing him exactly how effective his English is.

Instead he shrugs and smiles, just enough so that Tezuka can see he is smiling, barely, and says, “Mada mada dane, Buchou.”

Tezuka sits back and smiles, just enough so that Ryoma can see he is smiling, barely. “I hope you’ll continue to help me improve,” he says, and Ryoma realizes that in addition to being a genius and one of the greatest tennis players he has ever seen, his buchou is also a consummate seducer.

“Hai,” he murmurs, and is very, very relieved when Tezuka’s mother interrupts to call them to dinner.

“It’s good to see you in such a good mood this evening, Kunimitsu,” she remarks as they are sitting down.

Tezuka receives this calmly and does not reply. Instead, he glances over at Ryoma, who finds an entirely new and exciting challenge in getting Tezuka to hold his gaze without looking away.


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