Author's Notes: Finally! The TezuFuji that has been bugging me. It took me longer than expected because of some unexpected duties in school. Anyway, this is based on another poem that I made. I hope you like it. And the pastel-colored blankets were inspired by chibi episode 132. Fuji and Tezuka really look good as the grandma and grandpa, don't they? ::snickers::

Disclaimers: Not mine. Everything belongs to Konomi-sama except for the story and the poem.

Underneath the Pastel Blankets

Chocolate colored eyes stared at the package given to him.

"What is this?"

The smaller of the two smiled. "A going-away gift. Go on. Open it."

Slowly, the other took off the wrapping paper, not wanting to destroy the packaging. His companion just watched, smiling, anticipating what his friend's reaction would be.

The taller one blinked. "A blanket?"


"It's a pastel-colored blanket, Fuji."

Cerulean eyes opened to meet coffee ones. "I know."

The other said nothing but the look in his eyes clearly said that he wasn't fond of the color. But Fuji's stare did not falter.

"It reminds me of us," he said. "There are always blankets covering both of us – its prints varying and so do the colors. But most of them are pastel-colored, light and sometimes unseen."

Fuji walked towards the other, smile still in place though this one seemed to be wistful. Can't you understand me, he wanted to ask. But instead, he just smiled and ran his hands on the other's face.

"But there are some things beneath those pastel-hued sheets. I just hope that someday, I will get to see what's behind your blanket, Tezuka. And until that day comes, I will wait for you."

And with that, he put down his hand and walked away. But it wasn't long before Tezuka's deep voice stopped him in his tracks.

"When will I see yours?"

Fuji looked back one last time and smiled. "You already have."

"Please put on your seatbelts. We will begin to land in a few minutes."

Piercing brown eyes opened slowly, the voice from the flight attendant waking him up. Tezuka Kunimitsu sighed. It was that dream again. The dream of a memory from long ago. One of the thousands of memories that centered on one person.

Fuji Syusuke. The prodigy. The greatest enigma in his life.

And to think he never knew that his life would revolve around him.

He sighed again and looked at the book in hand. Blankets…

For five years, he tried to decipher what the other said the last time they saw each other. Five years since he left Japan to continue his college studies in Germany. Five years and still he did not get what Fuji had meant with those words.


Pastel-colored blankets…

And the things that were beneath them…

He really didn't get what the Tensai had meant.

Well, that was until a certain book came into his possession.

"Did you have a nice flight, Tezuka-san?" the lady at the counter asked as she checked his passport.

He nodded. "Hai."

That's right. A book with a poem by the one and only Fuji Syusuke.

He glanced at the book once again. It was actually a collection of poems written by different authors who won in an international poetry contest held earlier that year. It seemed that Fuji had entered a poem that seemed to answer all his questions.

How did the book find its way into his hands?

Fuji Yuuta.

He smiled. It seemed that Fuji's little brother cared about him after all.

He was sitting on his desk, reviewing a case. It was a rainy night but the rain fell quietly. The only melody that could be heard – besides the light tapping of raindrops – was the classical music that played on his laptop. Then suddenly, the door bell rang.

Who could it be, he asked himself. It was already late in the evening.

His eyes widened at recognition the moment he saw the person through the peep hole. He opened the door quickly.


"Yuuta-kun. Come in."

Neither knew where to start and what to say. Tezuka just stood there, waiting for the other to speak. Yuuta just stood opposite him, a package in hand. However, Tezuka always had his manners in tact.

He offered Yuuta a seat.

The younger one declined. "I'm kinda in a hurry. I just wanted to give you this."

It was like de ja vu. He was being handed another package albeit this time a smaller one.

"It's a book," the younger Fuji said. "There's something there I know you need to read."

Tezuka just stared at the book as Yuuta adjusted his jacket and walked towards the door. The former buchou could not say anything. Everything just seemed so familiar…

"Watching sunrise on a mountain is nice, na Tezuka-san?"

And Tezuka's eyes widened.

Had he been too ignorant as not to understand Fuji's words?

Had he been too blind as not to see what the prodigy had set before his eyes?


He simply tried to deny what he saw, what he understood, what he felt.

He refused to acknowledge those things he hid under his blankets.

When he first picked up the book and read the poem, he thought that it was too late to do anything about it. It had been five years and five years was simply too long.

But then, Fuji's words came back to him.

"I just hope that someday, I will get to see what's behind your blanket, Tezuka. And until that day comes, I will wait for you."

He paid the taxi driver and looked around as he steeped out. The place still looked the same as it looked when they first went there. He remembered it very well – the day before he told the regulars that he'd go to Germany to heal his arm.

It was a very touching memory – something that he expected Oishi to do for him. What he hadn't expected, though, was Fuji's hand in his as they watched the sun rise.

It had been brief but assuring. What he did not know was it was also a message he failed to – or blinded himself – to understand.

But he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

He wasn't going to put Yuuta's efforts in vain.

The sun was about to shine in a few minutes.

The moon was still there – full and shining – the moment he reached the top of the mountain, the same place where he and his teammates had watched the sun rise a few years back.

And Yuuta was right…

There, near the edge of the cliff, was Fuji Syusuke.

Watching him from behind, Tezuka noted that Fuji still looked the same. He still had that slim, feminine figure. He still had that same length of light brown hair. He still had the same mysterious aura around him.

As much as watching from afar was nice, the former buchou was fed up with it.

The dawn was nearing.

Fuji smiled – wistful as well. As wistful as it has always been since that day five years ago.

"Saa… another day to wait for you, na Tezuka?" he asked, talking to other as if the taller boy was present.

Another day of waiting. Another day of hearing his heart break.

How long will he wait for a new day?

The dawn was approaching. The dawn to a new day.

Fuji turned around, not really wanting to see the sun rise. No, he did not want to see the dawn of another day – a day spent alone and heartbroken.

But little did he know that this day was something new.

Ocean-tinted eyes widened as it came in contact with coffee-colored ones.


A small smile graced Tezuka's lips, seeing the face that often haunted his dreams. The face that he had wanted see for so long.

"There are masks…

A number of facades…

… Of smiles…

… Of indifference…"

If his eyes could widen even more, it did. Tezuka was reciting his words, his emotions. He had memorized everything.

"There are a lot of unsaid words…

Many undone actions…

"There are fears…

There are expectations…

There are frustrations…

There are confusions…

"And they color the blanket with different hues…

… Pastel colors…

… Light, as we want it to remain unseen…

And the blanket covers us…"

Five years full of contradicting and confusing emotions. Five years of denial. Five years of waiting. And now…

And now…

Tezuka stepped forward – slow, tentative steps – towards the other.

And Fuji did not do anything. He waited, just as he always had.

"But beneath it, there are promises…

… For one to come back…

… For the other to wait…

And the promises won't be in vain."

He reached out to touch Fuji's face and the Tensai leaned in, savoring the touch.

How long did he wait for this?

"Because there is more than assurance in those words…

… There is love…

… Underneath the pastel blankets."

The sun was beginning to rise.

A symbol for a new day.

A new day for both of them.

"You waited," Tezuka said.

The usual smile in place. "I said I would, right?"

"I understand it finally."

Fuji tilted his head in silent question.

In one swift movement, Tezuka closed the distance between them, enveloping the Tensai in a tight embrace. Fuji's hair smelled like a mixture of vanilla and strawberry. Intoxicating, he thought.

"Beneath the blankets is your love for me. And beneath mine, is my love for you."

Fuji let out a genuine smile – soft and full of love. And Tezuka felt the smile.

The wait was worth it, Fuji knew.

Because, indeed, there was love underneath those pastel blankets.


16Julo4; 07:40p

1546 words