[PoT] Refraction II, PG, General, FujiRyo
Dec. 19th, 2005 02:51 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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chineseinkTitle: Refraction II
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Eventual FujiRyo.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The difference between Tezuka and Fuji to Ryoma. Part 2/4.
Refraction II
by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
meitachi
“Ryoma,” says Fuji, brushing sweat-soaked bangs from his eyes, “could you please hand me that towel?”
Silently, Ryoma does so, stifling a yawn behind his other hand. “Are we almost done?” he grumbles, his glare encompassing the entire room, crammed with people, camera lights, and an assortment of electrical equipment with cords that crisscross in dangerous paths across the floor. His sullen gaze comes to a rest in one corner, where Momoshiro and Kaido are being forced, as doubles partners, to pose together for the layout. They look less happy than Ryoma feels and that in turn eases some of his irritation.
Languidly, his eyes trail to the other corner, where Oishi and the poor, harassed camerawoman are attempting to settle the ever-fidgeting Kikumaru in some sort of pose for longer than half a minute. Inui, standing beside the camera, looks smug as he jots in his ever-present notebook. His own picture was taken with little difficulty a good fifteen minutes ago.
“Echizen.” He looks up at Tezuka, who is frowning. “You’re up next,” his captain says.
Ryoma scowls, his bad humor falling comfortably back in place as he contemplates being posed and postured for a magazine cover. “Do I have to?” he complains, crossing his arms and glaring in the direction of the photographer who has just finished with Tezuka and is having her assistants run around rearranging the lighting, adjusting them to a more suitable height.
“Saa, the lights are hot,” Fuji says mildly, with a smile, “but it’s not so bad.” He comes to stand behind Ryoma and lays a hand on his shoulder, looking down at the boy slouching in the chair.
Tilting his head back, Ryoma gives Fuji a measuring look. “Whatever,” he says, getting up reluctantly. He runs a hand through his hair and makes a small moue of disgruntlement; he wishes he were at least able to wear his hat but the costume and makeup artists have both told him, one kindly and the other very flatly, there is no way the photographers will allow it. They want to see his face, after all, said the nice woman who’d dressed him with a smile. Ryoma decides that fame is really not worth it.
The photographer is looking impatient now, so he picks up his pace from meandering to strolling, and crosses the room wishing the whole affair will just end as quickly and painlessly as possible.
Behind him, Fuji and Tezuka watch as he makes his way towards the set. “He really doesn’t like all the glitz that comes with fame, does he?” observes Fuji, folding the towel in his hands.
Tezuka doesn’t say anything, but makes a small sound of agreement, and turns his gaze until he’s watching Momoshiro explaining for the third time to his photographer that there is just no way he and that “baka mamushi” were going to be touching in any way, shape, or form in the pictures.
Fuji’s mouth tilts up in a smile that is unseen by everyone else in the hectic room.
It doesn’t occur to Tezuka until much later, after the entire hassle of a photo shoot is over and Kikumaru is dragging Oishi out for the promised ice cream for surviving the ordeal, and everyone else is heading home via subway or bike, that Fuji called Ryoma by his first name.
--
Started/Finished: 05/30/05
Edited: 06/02/05
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Eventual FujiRyo.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The difference between Tezuka and Fuji to Ryoma. Part 2/4.
Refraction II
by
meitachi“Ryoma,” says Fuji, brushing sweat-soaked bangs from his eyes, “could you please hand me that towel?”
Silently, Ryoma does so, stifling a yawn behind his other hand. “Are we almost done?” he grumbles, his glare encompassing the entire room, crammed with people, camera lights, and an assortment of electrical equipment with cords that crisscross in dangerous paths across the floor. His sullen gaze comes to a rest in one corner, where Momoshiro and Kaido are being forced, as doubles partners, to pose together for the layout. They look less happy than Ryoma feels and that in turn eases some of his irritation.
Languidly, his eyes trail to the other corner, where Oishi and the poor, harassed camerawoman are attempting to settle the ever-fidgeting Kikumaru in some sort of pose for longer than half a minute. Inui, standing beside the camera, looks smug as he jots in his ever-present notebook. His own picture was taken with little difficulty a good fifteen minutes ago.
“Echizen.” He looks up at Tezuka, who is frowning. “You’re up next,” his captain says.
Ryoma scowls, his bad humor falling comfortably back in place as he contemplates being posed and postured for a magazine cover. “Do I have to?” he complains, crossing his arms and glaring in the direction of the photographer who has just finished with Tezuka and is having her assistants run around rearranging the lighting, adjusting them to a more suitable height.
“Saa, the lights are hot,” Fuji says mildly, with a smile, “but it’s not so bad.” He comes to stand behind Ryoma and lays a hand on his shoulder, looking down at the boy slouching in the chair.
Tilting his head back, Ryoma gives Fuji a measuring look. “Whatever,” he says, getting up reluctantly. He runs a hand through his hair and makes a small moue of disgruntlement; he wishes he were at least able to wear his hat but the costume and makeup artists have both told him, one kindly and the other very flatly, there is no way the photographers will allow it. They want to see his face, after all, said the nice woman who’d dressed him with a smile. Ryoma decides that fame is really not worth it.
The photographer is looking impatient now, so he picks up his pace from meandering to strolling, and crosses the room wishing the whole affair will just end as quickly and painlessly as possible.
Behind him, Fuji and Tezuka watch as he makes his way towards the set. “He really doesn’t like all the glitz that comes with fame, does he?” observes Fuji, folding the towel in his hands.
Tezuka doesn’t say anything, but makes a small sound of agreement, and turns his gaze until he’s watching Momoshiro explaining for the third time to his photographer that there is just no way he and that “baka mamushi” were going to be touching in any way, shape, or form in the pictures.
Fuji’s mouth tilts up in a smile that is unseen by everyone else in the hectic room.
It doesn’t occur to Tezuka until much later, after the entire hassle of a photo shoot is over and Kikumaru is dragging Oishi out for the promised ice cream for surviving the ordeal, and everyone else is heading home via subway or bike, that Fuji called Ryoma by his first name.
--
Started/Finished: 05/30/05
Edited: 06/02/05
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