Chapter Text
It took Tezuka a minute to lose Miyuki in the crowd. She had a habit of running ahead and could easily find the small gaps between people like she found the gaps in her opponents defence. Tezuka, meanwhile, was left to fight his way thrto check in.
Once upon a time, Tezuka would have been the one pulling a disappearing act and letting someone else check in for him. Except, Tezuka had never been that kind of person and had never risen high enough in the pro tennis ranks to have an entourage.
Not that Miyuki was high in the rankings either. This -the Australian Open- was her first major tournament having spent the past few years smashing her way through the juniors.
"Two rooms booked under Miyuki Chitose," Tezuka said to the desk clerk who immediately jumped onto the computer to find the booking. He navigated his way through check in in his perfect English, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to see if he could spot his young student. She'd no doubt found a nice comfy sofa to lounge on.
He took their room keys, thanked the desk clerk and set off to find Miyuki.
He was proud of his student. When he'd decided to become a coach he never though that within a couple of years he'd be at a Grand Slam. Especially not with a student he'd taken on as a favour for a concerned older brother. But Miyuki was extremely talented and even more driven, she reminded him of someone from his previous life.
He was shaken out of his thoughts when his shoulder collided with someone's. He spun to apologise, but the words died on his tongue.
"Sorry," the man said before recognition flooded his face followed by a very familiar smirk. "Looks like you let your guard down."
"Echizen," Tezuka greeted him, "you've grown." He hadn't meant to say that, but it was true.
"I'm not Ochibichan any more."
"You're not," Tezuka agreed still shaking himself for saying something so stupid! He'd been following Echizen's career since Seigaku, of course he'd known that he'd grown up! There was no doubt that Echizen had grown into a fine young man.
"I'm almost as tall as you." Tezuka nodded as Echizen tried to measure himself against him. There was only a couple of centimetres in it and Echizen pouted as he realised it. It shock Tezuka that at 22 he could still be the cute brat from Seigaku.
"Ryoma, are you coming?" A very beautiful woman appeared by Echizen's arm.
"Yeah sure. See you around, Buchou."
Tezuka felt the bile rising up his throat. Of course Echizen would be here! He was a tournament away from becoming world number one! Of course he had a beautiful girlfriend! Why would he even think-
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Miyuki said when Tezuka found her taking selfies with fans.
"Just an old acquaintance." They hadn't seen each other for 10 years. They couldn't be friends any more.
Safely locked in his own hotel room, Tezuka pulled out his phone and, without thinking about it, googled 'Echizen Ryoma'. Reading through profile after profile, he couldn't help but feel a deep pride and admiration for his kohai.
Tezuka had helped give him the tools of his trade and sent him out to fly. And how Echizen had spread his wings and soared.
He didn't just win, he won in style.
And after That photograph of Echizen on the courts of Roland Garros, pulling his shirt up to wipe sweat off his face, showing off a toned, muscular chest with a smear of red clay across it, he'd become something of a sex symbol.
Tezuka had looked at the photo more times than he was proud to admit. His eyes skimmed down to the section of Wikipedia labelled 'personal life' and started reading, his heart somewhere in his throat. It was a sentence long. Echizen kept his private life private. That was good, it really was no ones business but Echizen's. Still, it didn't stop that cold feeling when Tezuka thought about Echizen and that beautiful woman.
Tezuka didn't sleep that night.
Miyuki crashed out in the third round. She'd been impressive though and had won the hearts of the crowd. Even though she'd lost, she'd smiled and waved through her pain and then sobbed into Tezuka's chest as Tezuka awkwardly patted her on the back. No one had expected her to win her debut grand slam, not everyone was Echizen Ryoma.
Echizen himself had smashed his way up to the finals, only to fall at the final hurdle losing 7-6 6-4 7-6 to Novak Djokovic. Tezuka had watched back in Japan, alone and mesmerised by the tennis on display. Why hadn’t he watch Echizen play sooner? Why had he denied himself for so long? It was explosive, powerful, magical. He’d polished every facet of his tennis, if he’d been a rough diamond in middle school he was now the Koh-i-Nur.
The gnawing sensation in his gut that had been there since their chance meeting grew.