Pillar Pair: Hatsuyume
Dec. 31st, 2009 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
faded_laceWell, I managed to get one more fic out! I feel kind of like a failure, but at least I contributed something for every day. Hope this last fic isn't a disappointment.
Title: Hatsuyume
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: G
Pairing: Pillar Pair (Tezuka Kunimitsu x Echizen Ryoma)
Warnings: BL
Author's Note: My last fic for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clinck's TezRyo Revival!
Echizen Ryoma has never been much of one to believe in superstition. He's not wary of fourth and ninth floors, nor does he plan to be paranoid when he's twenty five or fourty two, and he's never tied a wish to a bamboo branch in July. Despite the fact that his father often makes a big fuss over things like that, Ryoma finds them stupid and pointless, and he refuses to be phased by anything of the sort.
Ryoma remembers his dreams about fifty percent of the time, though he hardly cares; he's never been one to read much into dreams, either. He puts no effort into remembering the fine details of his nighttime visions, nor does he recount his dreams to others. He simply doesn't see the point, can't be bothered to care. He has more important things to be worrying about than silly things like dreams, anyway.
❦
The night of January first, Ryoma does not dream of eggplants. He does not dream of hawks, and he does not dream of mount Fuji. Behind closed eyes, he sees a tennis court, clear and pristine and stretching out to the horizon. Above him is a blue sky, and gripped in one hand is his tennis racquet, grip tape as tangible as if he were truly living and breathing this moment. From the sidelines, Tezuka, dressed in full Seigaku regalia despite the fact that they are not at school, strides towards him, the smallest hints of a smile dancing across his lips. Ryoma smiles back as Tezuka bends and places a gentle kiss on his cheek with only the words, play well. He walks plainly to the other side of the court and prepares to serve, and that is when Ryoma wakes.
It's simple and normal and nothing exceptional, but Ryoma cannot help but think that this dream might be lucky, after all.
Title: Hatsuyume
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: G
Pairing: Pillar Pair (Tezuka Kunimitsu x Echizen Ryoma)
Warnings: BL
Author's Note: My last fic for
clinck's TezRyo Revival!Echizen Ryoma has never been much of one to believe in superstition. He's not wary of fourth and ninth floors, nor does he plan to be paranoid when he's twenty five or fourty two, and he's never tied a wish to a bamboo branch in July. Despite the fact that his father often makes a big fuss over things like that, Ryoma finds them stupid and pointless, and he refuses to be phased by anything of the sort.
Ryoma remembers his dreams about fifty percent of the time, though he hardly cares; he's never been one to read much into dreams, either. He puts no effort into remembering the fine details of his nighttime visions, nor does he recount his dreams to others. He simply doesn't see the point, can't be bothered to care. He has more important things to be worrying about than silly things like dreams, anyway.
The night of January first, Ryoma does not dream of eggplants. He does not dream of hawks, and he does not dream of mount Fuji. Behind closed eyes, he sees a tennis court, clear and pristine and stretching out to the horizon. Above him is a blue sky, and gripped in one hand is his tennis racquet, grip tape as tangible as if he were truly living and breathing this moment. From the sidelines, Tezuka, dressed in full Seigaku regalia despite the fact that they are not at school, strides towards him, the smallest hints of a smile dancing across his lips. Ryoma smiles back as Tezuka bends and places a gentle kiss on his cheek with only the words, play well. He walks plainly to the other side of the court and prepares to serve, and that is when Ryoma wakes.
It's simple and normal and nothing exceptional, but Ryoma cannot help but think that this dream might be lucky, after all.
