AN: Based on a fan-manga. Basically a translation, but I added and changed some. Dialog is generally the same. Instead of the happy ending, there will be a not-so-happy ending. The author herself said it was confusing, so I'll make it... a little less confusing, but still confusing nonetheless! If the author is reading this or something like that and you want this taken off immediately, I will! Sorry also. Some OOCness later on. And of course, as there always is: Confusion and thinking. Also, sorry for a lot of "..."s It's just, that's what manga tends to do a lot. Make people trail off and stuff.
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P E R N I C I O U S
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Chapter 1: God of the Blue Underworld
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The way his eyes open and stare down like God-Almighty. How they capture and pierce through hearts. Blue glimmering orbs that allure with every look they send. Like two matching blue pearls that can turn heads anywhere. Ones once set eyes upon, a unable to release the look. Unique, mysterious, completely captivating. One glance, it's like staring into the depths of a blue hell itself. A burning blue, even though blue wouldn't come off as a color that would burn. The ocean was merely passed. His eyes didn't give off a feeling of ocean- peace, serenity. No, never like that. The sense of coldness burns still. Ironic isn't it? Blue hell-- blue fire, hell means fire, no? Nearly the hottest fire there can be, yet it's cold. It's cold in here. Cruelest eyes of all.
His.
Mine.
I wonder to myself, how can someone's eyes be described this way? Well, there's no solution for I have no answer.
All I hear... all I hear is his voice and my voice. Things that happened when I knew him then.
Everything that led up to right now.
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How I met him was an odd way to meet someone. At age 15, I came to America, having lived in Japan all my life, because my father needed to move due to business. My high school years went by in that country with high grades and test scores. Though I did not partake in any club activities or sports, I enjoyed playing tennis during my free time with my friends. They all told me I had quite the talent for it although I've never taken lessons or practiced. During my first year of college, I lived in the dorms like most freshman in college do.
In that first year, it was then I decided I wanted to play tennis. It was a last moment decision and mostly on impulse, but I did it anyway. Hardly did I ever act without thinking through, but the results were pleasant. Playing college-level tennis, tournaments, trophies, earned me a place in the international-held tournaments. Regional tournaments, national tournaments, U.S. Open, French Open... tennis soon became my life. Third year of college: I got a nearby apartment.
It was then, one day I walked to the doorstep of my apartment and there lay a body of a boy. My first thought was, "Is he dead?" Then, "A Japanese?" I bent down and shook him a little. He stirred. I shook him more and the boy opened his eyes. He stared at me and opened his mouth. "I..."
I looked at him, awaiting for him to continue.
"I'm so hungry, I can't even move..."
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"Thank you for the meal! It was delicious! Do you cook for yourself at home a lot?"
"Yeah, most of the time... anyways, what were you doing, collapsed out there on my doorstep? Do you live around here or are you a tourist? Judging by your looks, you must be a teenager, you aren't running away from home are you?"
The boy didn't answer.
"Well?"
"I don't know..."
"?"
"Um," he puts his hand behind his head, "Hm, what was I doing...?"
"Your name?"
"..Um... well..."
'Did he get Amnesia from that fall?' "Can you remember anything at all? Do you have an identification with you in a bag perhaps?" 'Come to think of it, there wasn't a bag near him.'
"Ahaha... maybe it was stolen?"
"This isn't a laughing matter!"
A few seconds passed and the boy said, "Fuji... I think I was called..."
"You remember now? Even a name will give us a good place to start."
"...in a dream..."
And that was how I met him. I found him in front of my door, lying as if he were dead. Strange, isn't it?
Since he had said 'Fuji,' even though he said he was called that in a dream, that's what I called him. It suited him. He then asked if he could stay at my apartment. 'I'll do housework or something! Please?' It was the oddest request from someone who had lost their memory. He should go to the police and ask. So I declined... at first. But...
"But there must have been a reason I was at your doorstep, some reason, surely..."
Some reason he had said. And for some reason, that somehow made me change my decision. It wasn't good or bad idea anything, I thought, and he was a stranger, to me and himself, so maybe it'd be alright for me to let him stay. There wouldn't be any problem to it. Only that in two months, I had to leave the apartment and go away for awhile, so I told him that he could only stay for that long. After that, if his memory hasn't returned, we'd call the police and help him.
Thus, from that day on, a strange sort of union had begun.
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"So Tezuka, are you out lot? On business trips and such?"
"Yeah, I suppose so. I play tennis so I move around districts to play in tournaments... wait, how did you know my name?"
"You're name? Oh... I saw it in the front of the apartment.. anyways... you're a tennis player? Wow, an athlete. That's unexpected. Well, I suppose I can't imagine you as a business man or wearing a suit."
"Fuji, how old do you think I am?"
"25, 26 maybe?"
"I'm turning 19 next month!
"Nine-" He starts laughing, "But.. you look... so old..."
"Stop laughing!"
"Sorry, sorry. You must be strong then, yeah?"
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Chapter 2: Being Pragmatic and Being Forgetful
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"What?"
"I mean, you're only 19 and you're already living in such a high class place."
"Yeah."
"Hey, why did you start playing tennis?"
"'Why?' As soon as a I found out about it."
"Really? Were your parents also tennis players?"
"No, if I was inspired by anyone to start, it would have been a certain Japanese athlete... I'll never forget how I felt back then, although it has brought me this far..."
"Tezuka?"
"Why was that? Even now I can't remember. What on Earth did I see back then...?"
A long... a long, long road that goes on forever...
"...It doesn't end, no matter how many times I win, no matter what I pursue, there is no end. There is no answer."
What am I fighting against?
"It's better fighting a battle where you cannot see the goal, is it not? It you can't remember, wouldn't it be easier just to forget it all?"
"Can't you talk realistically?"
"Well, I guess if you were to forget why I was here in the first place, you'd kick me out huh?"
"Don't discredit me like that!"
"Sorry."
"In any case, are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital? Clearly, there's something wrong with your memory, am I right? You should go get it examined at the very least."
"I'm okay..."
"If you don't have any money, I can gi--"
"You know Tezuka, when someone loses their memory, it isn't always because of an accident. Especially in my case, I don't have any external wounds. And since it can't be attributed to an accident, it isn't that I can't remember, but that I don't want to remember."
"..."
"Ah, of course I'll still go to the hospital, if I don't get my memory back within two months. I'll be leaving this place as well, so you can have some peace at mind."
"It's doesn't really matter. If you want to stay after that, I don't mind."
He looks startled for a second, then smiles.
God, it haunts me.
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National Tennis Academy
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"Yo, didja hear? Looks like out owner's been refused by the same guy again. It's some huge rumor now at the academy." His good friend, Amane, comes over to him as Tezuka is tying his shoelaces sitting on the bench.
"'The same?' The Japanese guy in the Junior division?" He got off the bench and they leaned against the fence of the tennis courts.
"That's the one. He's from some obscure club I've never head of, but he's already claimed a huge string of victories. He was also last year's orange ball victor. Seems like they'll scout anyone who might make it big huh?"
"But he declined, didn't he?"
"Yeah, said that he didn't have enough spirit to go pro."
"I have no interest in people like that."
Tezuka stands straight and starts walking away.
"...are... you going to see his match? Heh, I don't think I stand a chance. They call him a prodigy, after all. Y'know, ever since you came along, I've been handed a sense of defeat merely watching what you can do. Sooner of later, I want to see the showdown between the two of you. Your styles are so different. I can't even imagine what kind of match that'd be."
"... I will reiterate: No matter how strong he may be, I have no interest in an opponent who does not seek to be here. A person who is truly strong will proceed down a certain and fixed path. If not, then he will be of the standard that he has set for himself."
"...well, uh, it's obviously depends on whether or not you want to play."
In what kind of world, would an exception to this rule exist?
"A prodigy, huh?"
He clutches his left arm.
...Tiring, isn't it---?
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The time he bought a flower plant for me to put in my room... I was absolutely disgusted by it.
"Fuji, what is this?"
"Ah, you noticed! Isn't it cute? I thought your room looked dreary so I bought it for you."
"Get rid of it."
"Huh?"
"Get rid of it right now. I hate flowers."
"...Ah, I'm sorry. Um, would it be okay if I left it in my room? This flower too, has its own span of life...so I just thought, so you wouldn't have to see it..."
"Leave me be!" The door slams.
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Knock. Knock.
"Tezuka, can I come in?" Fuji opens the door. Tezuka is lying on the bed, looking like he's not feeling well. "It's almost dinnertime. Is there anything you'd like? I'll cook."
"I'm fine."
"...um...I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. You don't need to apologize," He gets up from his lying position to face Fuji, " I was being unreasonable. I'm just a bit... disconcerted."
"Do you mind If I sit by you?"
"No."
Fuji gracefully sits down beside Tezuka.
"Hey, do you have a lover?"
There was something much there than just asking that.
Isn't it hard...
"...You're prying again."
Being alone?
"Again? Are the things I say really that odd?"
"Yes."
"Well, do you have one or not?"
"...I have no need for one."
Like this. Without even realizing it, you've always refused to look certain things in the eye.
"You seem to be so well-liked, yet you don't have one?"
"..."
"Really? Then what about before. Have you ever felt strongly for anyone?"
"No one.. I think. But, you keep asking me, what about you?" Tezuka smiles just a little, "If I asked, would you remember?"
"I do like someone."
The answer echoes in my head.
"You."
You.
Me...
Fuji moves toward Tezuka.
"Fu--"
"Shh," he puts a finger to his mouth, "you won't dislike this."
He leans in. And slowly, gently, kisses him. They let go and Tezuka's lips grazes Fuji's neck as he pushes him further down the bed. Fuji trembles slightly. "Tezuka, I'm sorry."
"I already said it's okay."
"Yes, but...I'm so sorry..."
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Chapter 3: They Call Him A Prodigy
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Again...
"...tch!" Tezuka clutches his left arm again.
How much longer can I carry on like this?
"Is something wrong with your arm?" Fuji walks in from the front door. "Does it hurt?"
Tezuka looks away, "It's nothing."
"That's not what your face is saying! Tezuka. You're left handed, but the day I came here, you cooked with your right, didn't you? Since then, you've been using your right hand for everything but tennis."
"Even if I tell you a lie, intentional or not, don't tell this to anyone. In the past, our of habit, I shifted too much burden onto my shoulder. My elbow has also gone into relapse. So when I move it like this, sometimes a sharp pain will run through my entire arm."
"You haven't gotten it fixed? Your coaches, anyone, none of them have said anything to you?"
"No one at the academy has noticed. I tried to correct my form, but no matter what I try, I end up reducing my power by half."
"But then...your arm will only get worse won't it?" If that's the case, no matter how strong you are, isn't it meaningless in the end?"
"Even if that happens, I have no intention of being healed."
"But--!
"Fuji. If you say anymore, you'll be interfering with something that isn't your to interfere with. This has nothing to do with you." Tezuka gets up to leave.
"...Echizen Nanjirou. He retired because of an injury right? Do you want to end up like that? But the you just now? You don't even come close to him. You fancy yourself a martyr."
And that really hit it.
"Shut up!" Tezuka pinned Fuji to the bed. "I told you not to interfere! This is my tennis."
"You're... wrong... You're wrong Tezuka. That "tennis" or whatever you want to call it--that isn't your tennis."
"...I'm not wrong. Victory is everything. I will not allow myself to lose a second time. I will not allow myself to lose anything ever again."
I don't understand something... no. I don't understand anything.
But a long time ago... I felt like I lost something important.
"If I carry on like this, in theory, I will have two years before my arms goes out. In reality thought, I don't know if I will be able to hold out for that long. And that's considering that I practice at the minimum. That other day, I was examined in secret by a doctor that I know. And to top it all off, it looks like Echizen Nanjirou's son will be coming here soon. How can I not work myself like a martyr? It seems like, for once, that I can see a goal. It may not be a real goal--more of a compulsion, in fact, but..."
Completely...
"..I can resign myself to its completion. I'm just... just a little bit tired, is all..."
Forgotten.
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National Tennis Academy
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"Aren't you early."
"...Echizen." He's relaxing in the bench, doing particularly nothing.
"I was thinking you might play me for a bit."
"You came?"
"Yeah, just racking up some points for work. I've got tournaments every week now y'know."
"I see--could it be you?"
"Me what?"
"Never mind. I've just heard that there's a talented player in the Junior tournaments. Apparently out owner has been desperate about recruiting him since last year."
"No, I don't think it's me. Since I got here, I haven't had the time to let even one round in the Junior tournament go. America came onto the scene only recently so It's crazy just how much they've been scouting since last year..."
"Is that so? I see."
"Hey, it's probably..."
"Hm?"
"Senpai, you said that you'll be leaving this Saturday?"
"Sometime around then, there's going to be a small Junior tournament."
"The person that you're talking about will probably be playing in it. At least, I think it's him."
"Will he?"
"At any rate, drop by and take a look. You'll see something interesting I'm sure."
"...All right."
"Oh, Oishi-senpai was worried, he said something about never being able to get a hold of you."
"Let's... not talk about those days."
"..."
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Junior Tournaments
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"Ah, he's here. See, I told you, didn't I? It doesn't look like you'll have to keep searching."
Tezuka look down to the courts from the bleachers. The boy playing was... "Fuji?"
"Surprising, isn't it? Even if you didn't think he was in Japan, here would've been the last place you'd think to look for him, yeah? Though it does seems like something Fuji-senpai would do. Elusive, as always."
"Why is he playing tennis?"
The face of a fighter.
"Senpai?"
The art of deception.
"What kind of person is he? Do you know him, Echizen?"
And beneath the cruel expression.
"You're kidding..."
The eyes of a hunter, cornering his prize.
"Game- S. Fuji! 6-0, 6-0!"
"...Senpai... you don't remember?
They call him a prodigy...
Ugh..." Tezuka puts his hand over his forehead with a distressed expression on his face as his falls down. "Tezuka-senpai, you okay!?"
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Chapter 4: The Difference Between Reality and Reality
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"Ah... Look, Tezuka! See this flower? It only blooms in Spring. Isn't it amazing! That it's still in bloom? Spring ended long ago."
"Even so, all flowers end up withering."
"But... it's lives still. Even if it's petals whither, it's life does not end. As long as the root is still alive, it tries and tries and does its best to make the flower bloom again. Something that's possibly for such a small flower. Should be possibly for you right? Spring is coming again soon."
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"What? You're not going?"
"Yeah, I'm not going abroad, I'm staying here in Japan. So of course, you can't go."
"Why...?"
"Tezuka, I love your tennis. Your winning tennis, that is."
"Is it because.. I lost?! Is that it?! Fuji!!"
"So to speak, you're like a cut flower, aren't you Tezuka?"
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Fuji Syuusuke...
That's right... he's---
My memories, him... it's all flooding...
The door outside of my apartment... it doesn't have my name anywhere.
"I'm home Tezuka, I bought some apples on the way home today. Do you want some?" He said happily.
"Why... did you lie to me?"
The happy expression disappeared. His eyes opened.
They looked so...
Cruel.
"Why would you lie about losing your memory? Especially since I was the one who lost mine!"
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And I lost consciousness of what I was doing. Everything went blurred and unfocused. What had happened, I had no idea. Last thing I remember was I reached out for him and grabbed him by the neck--
Gray.
Darker.
Black.
When I came to,
My hands were covered in blood.
And Fuji was on the floor, blood stains on him, off him, the wall...
"Te..zuka..., I'm...so sorry..."
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4 years ago--
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"Do you know how to make someone lose their memories Tezuka?"
"...No...why do you ask?"
"My sister told me the the other day... it'd be more possibly if it were the other way around, but she supposed it wouldn't be too difficult to intentionally erase someone's memories."
"Why are you telling me this again?"
"Shh.. Usually it is, yes. If the person in question has extremely painful memories, then the brain naturally locks those memories away in self-defense. For example, being betrayed by a person so precious that, without them, you cannot exist--or something like that, you know? Then again, that's pretty rare, isn't it? Generally, one can't feel that strongly for another person."
"Fuji."
"Even if that happens, the memories itself doesn't disappear. It's only locked away in a box. Within the subconscious, the memory will always live on."
"Why--?
"What a pity, am I not allowed to have the same done to me?"
"I don't quite get what you mean Fuji, what are--"
"As far as you're concerned Tezuka, this superfluous, extravagant love of yours will be planted and buried, you've got your tennis... you can't have anymore obstacles than you already have..."
Besides you've already lost the capability to love.
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Yes, I used to love him that much.
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"Fuji...?"
Everything else has disappeared.
It's only you.
Pernicious.
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P E R N I C I O U S
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