Author's Notes: I cannot believe that I just wrote this. No. I did not write this! ::pulls hair:: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dedication: First of all, to Kim – the only reason I wrote this was because I love you, my friend (well that and because I owe you a lot). Second, to Gayzelle – finally, the thing you were asking me to write (since you didn't like angst and all that drama). And to Reeza, for laughing at me when this came to my mind.

Disclaimers: If I owned this... argh! I cannot even talk about him here! NO! THIS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME! Everything is Konomi-sensei's except for the plot. The story is mine.

Perfectly Imperfect

It was a warm day. The sun was shining, bathing everything in an affectionate glow. There was no cloud in the sky to prevent the sun from shining. The birds were singing cheerful melodies. The wind was just right. It was like a perfectly orchestrated musical. Everything was in harmony. Everything fit perfectly together.

Though, for Tezuka Kunimitsu, not everything fit perfectly together.

He glanced at his companion who was humming softly, the fishing pole not on hand but on a gadget that seemed to serve as the pole's holder. Yes. He was convinced that they were not a perfectly orchestrated musical.

His companion arrived at the fishing area in a helicopter. Tezuka trekked on foot.

Said companion did not like going through all the hard work of going through the woods. Tezuka found the journey fulfilling.

The other preferred to hum while fishing, letting some kind of gadget hold the pole for him. Tezuka liked to fish in silence, holding the pole with his own hands.

Yet for some unknown and unexplainable reason, they were sitting next to each other – on the medium sized boat that Tezuka's grandfather always used – fishing.

And, though Tezuka would never admit, there was more.

Atobe Keigo, the aforementioned companion, didn't really understand it, too.

Everything around them was perfect. The sun was perfect. The chirping of the birds was perfect. The wind was perfect. He was perfect.

No. Not Tezuka. Him. Atobe Keigo.

He took a quick look at his companion. Tezuka was silent, his fishing pole in his left hand. Earth colored eyes were closed, lips slightly parted, as the taller of the two (although Atobe would never say it out loud) seemed to be taking in everything that the nature around them provided. There was a serene look on his face, unlike the usual stressed look he had in school and in tournaments.

Ok, he thought. So Tezuka neared perfection.

Atobe rolled his eyes. As if he'd mind if the auburn haired one wasn't perfect.

He breathed in deep, filling his lungs with the clean air around them, and let it all out in a sigh.

Tezuka's eyes flickered in his direction. He said nothing but Atobe knew better. The other boy was asking what the matter was.

The Hyotei buchou just shrugged and continued to 'fish'.

He closed his eyes. The truth was, he did not mind if Tezuka was not perfect and was only near perfection. He did not mind that they did not exactly fit like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. No. He did not mind them at all.

There was something in the boy that made him stay. Something that held him captivated. Something that trapped him in the zone that Tezuka created with his aura. Something that he just couldn't quite put his finger on.

Usually, this would piss the older of the two off. Under normal circumstances, he would've done everything to find out what that something was. However, nothing about what was happening was normal. And Atobe didn't really mind it. Not one bit.

Because, Atobe knew, that it was useless and illogical to try to figure out something as intangible and as abstract as what was transpiring between them.

He let out another sigh.


Teal-hued orbs opened and found Tezuka's eyes staring at him – concern evident. He had, after all, sighed two times in a row. This wasn't something that 'Ore-sama' usually did.

Atobe smiled softly, reached for the other's right hand and squeezed it. He said nothing. He just let himself drown in those tea-colored eyes.

Tezuka glanced at Atobe's hand clasping his and returned his attention back at those eyes. There were no answers to those uncountable questions in his mind. It was clear that Atobe didn't know them either and that the boy didn't exactly mind that he didn't.

But as he looked deeper, there was something beneath the surface. Something that told him that he needn't be bothered that they were the only instruments in the orchestra of nature that were not in harmony. Being perfect didn't exactly mean that you'd have to fit like a hand in glove.

A small smile curved Tezuka's lips. He squeezed Atobe's hand.

- Owari



703 words

Author's Notes: I did not write this. Repeat after me. I did not write this. REPEAT AFTER ME! I DID NOT WRITE THIS!

::whispers:: Ok. So this was cute. This is my first AtoZukaAto and will be my last. Yes. Last. No offence meant AtoZuka fans. It's just that... it's that.