Disclaimer: I do not own the Prince of Tennis. By writing this piece of fanfiction, I do not claim it for any commercial use, and it is meant to be read by fans, for no charge. The Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi. Any original characters will be stated as such.

Title: Artificial Adoration - Prologue

Words: 677

Rating: K


When Tezuka Kunimitsu had applied for a part-time job at the electronic store near his apartment, he hadn't expected it to follow him throughout his entire life. He'd thought that maybe after he graduated from university, he would come back to the shop to purchase a newer laptop – the one he had was sufficient for school use, but would not be suitable for his job as a lawyer. That was all the contact that he thought he'd have with the shop.

He was wrong.


"Welcome! Are you looking for anything?" A happy voice chimed when he pushed open the door, having saw the hiring part-timers sign displayed in the window. He looked up to see a brunette, eyes closed in a smile that was directed towards him.

Shaking his head, Tezuka replied, "No. I saw the sign that you needed part-timers, and am here to apply for the job."

"Oh, that! I'll just call for the manager, give me a second," The other said, making him way from behind the counter to the door, but pausing before he opened the door. "Did you bring a resume?"

Tezuka handed his resume over to the smiling brunette, then waited as he knocked on the door sharply, twice, then disappeared into the room. Approximately 8 minutes passed before he bounced back out again, his smile, if possible, even bigger than it was before. "You're hired! Are you free to start work today?"

Giving his reply as a mute nod, he was shown into the changing room and handed a uniform after he checked the size to make sure that he could wear it. He'd expected a polo shirt and pants of some short, but he was provided a crisp, white shirt, a black vest, and black skinny jeans. He looked down at his clothes, and up at the brunette's, who was wearing a red and black checkered shirt and the same type of skinny jeans.

"You don't work here?" Tezuka asked.

A twinkling laugh left the brunette's lips, and Tezuka's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening by a fraction at the sound.

"No, I don't get paid, but I take care of the shop when we don't have enough manpower. I'm a laptop," He explained. "I don't belong to anyone, though, the manager took me out of my packaging and told me to work here, so I do. I guess you could say I belong to the manager, then?"

A laptop. I didn't think I wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but his model must be extremely expensive to look so much like a human.

"My name's Tezuka Kunimitsu," Tezuka said. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, Tezuka-kun. I'm Fuji Syuusuke, model FS-0029."


Now that he was lying in the hospital, 67 years after that happened, and his family was deciding whether or not they wanted to cut off his supply of oxygen. It would take away his suffering, yes, but he would die, and none of them wanted that.

He raised a weak hand, breathing deeply through the oxygen mask, and placed it on his wife's arm. She turned to look at him, dark eyes welling with tears, until he smiled at her, softly. It was then she understood, and her tears fell.

"Cut it off," Tezuka Miyuki told the doctors, and her children, and grandchildren all turned to look at her in shock. Of everyone in the room, she was the one who loved her husband the most, and for her to tell the doctors to kill Tezuka was something no one had even thought of. "It's what Kunimitsu wants."

They all left the room, save for the doctor. Just before his oxygen was cut off, Tezuka's eyes gazed towards the human sized package in his room, brought there upon his request by his children, and he smiled again, even as he closed his eyes for the last time.

"Syuusuke..."

The model of the package read FS-0029.