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.