Work Text:
After 15 years of living in Germany, Tezuka was going home. His professional tennis career was over. He had won enough grand slams that he could comfortably retire and not have to worry about money ever again, but like many players before him, he didn’t want to be idle in his retirement and instead chose to go into coaching. Given his highly successful track record, the Japanese national tennis team was eager to get him back home to help their countries hopeful tennis players become just as successful as he had been.
There was a lot of paperwork to fill out when it came to moving back to Japan. He lived his whole adult life in Germany so he had a house and many assets which would need to be accounted for. That meant lots of emails, lots of forms to fill in, and lots of letters to post and receive.
So receiving post from Japan wasn’t unusual for him.
He didn’t think twice about the postage stamp.
The address for that particular letter was hand written, which was unusual, but he didn’t think there would be anything too interesting inside. He didn’t recognise the handwriting. It was written in German, and he had never seen Fuji’s handwriting in German. Once he opened the letter and was greeted with Japanese, he instantly knew who it was from without seeing who signed it at the end.
It started off predictably. Nothing unusual. Nothing noteworthy. An update on his life. Wishing Tezuka well.
Then his eyes met words that made Tezuka’s heart stop.
"I bet you’re wondering why I sent you a letter out of the blue, aren’t you? The truth is that there is something I wished I told you years ago, and have always regretted keeping to myself. Back when we were in school, I was in love with you. It took me years to admit it, and by then it was too late. It’s been hanging over me ever since. I needed to tell you so that I can let go and move on.
I wish you all the best,
Fuji Syusuke"
The world stopped spinning around him and all of the air vanished from the room. Tezuka looked down at the letter, dumbfounded, for at least a minute before his mind truly comprehended the meaning of it. Fuji had been in love with him? Of course he had been. In hindsight it was so obvious. How could he have not seen it before?
Knowing that made Tezuka…happy.
Why did it make him happy?
Why did the line about Fuji "moving on" make him sad?
He hadn’t seen the man in over a decade, but Tezuka had assumed that once he returned to Japan he would meet up with his old friends at least once, and hopefully rekindle their friendship. Would "moving on" mean that Fuji wouldn’t want to see him again? Probably. The thought make Tezuka feel heavy and sad. What would their friendship even look like? It would be unrecognisable. Tezuka had only known a friendship where Fuji was in love with him, so what would it look like when Fuji wasn’t in love with him?
What would it look like if he was still in love with him?
Would that still be a friendship, or would it be something else? Would Fuji want it to be something else?
Would Tezuka want it to be something else?
He put the letter down and walked away.
He was good at that.
It was easy to acclimatise to being back in Japan. There were some shocks to the system, but for the most part, it felt natural to be back. He met up with Oishi and Inui, found out about their lives and what they had gotten up to since they parted ways. Inui was engaged to be married and invited Tezuka to the wedding.
As Tezuka walked through the train station after a busy day out, he saw another familiar face.
‘Tezuka?’ Fuji's voice was soft and delicate, as it always had been, but it was also hazy, like he was waking up from a deep sleep. Fuji’s eyes fluttered a few times, as if snapping out of a daydream, to confirm if what he was seeing was real. He looked tired. His suit was a little crinkled and his posture was just like the rest of the exhausted salary men that littered the station on their way home from long days at the office.
But his eyes were bright, like they were when they were young.
‘Fuji.’