AN:Wow, this actually took more courage than I expected. Well, I'm not going to delay you much, so please do enjoy my first story here :)

The Crying Game

I

A Bittersweet Homecoming

(Hiro)

The eleventh hour of the seventh of October fourteen years ago had been the most crucial hours of his life. He didn't know it then, because nobody did; everyone was too busy trying to keep his mother calm and awake enough to deliver. His father had been pacing in the halls, glancing at the closed doors every once in a while, and his grandfather had been sitting calmly, though the strain in his voice when he barked for his son to calm down had betrayed his own inner tension.

His mother had been frantic, sweating and panting heavily, screaming at the nurses to get on with it already. She had felt it coming all day, the way mothers always felt things coming, and even though she had never been a mother before, she knew; and if her husband had listened, then maybe she wouldn't have felt it coming in the theater he insisted on bringing her to.

His father had driven his mother to the hospital like a maniac, and they'd been chased around the city by a police cab, and though it had been hell explaining everything afterwards, at least the police sirens kept the traffic away.

And Tezuka Kuniharu, his esteemed, law-abiding, stick-up-the-ass father, had almost gone to jail.

That had been the story for years, and once upon a time, it had been funny.

It still was, he supposed, if he didn't think about the events that happened next. Because twenty-seven minutes into the eleventh hour of the seventh of October, his mother, Tezuka Ayana, gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Not too chubby, and not terribly noisy either, the boy had been passed to the nurse and cleaned up where his mother could see, and Ayana had smiled and gave a small sigh of relief and named the boy Kunimitsu.

Five minutes later, out came another healthy baby boy. Not too chubby, but horribly noisy, the boy had been passed to the same nurse and cleaned up where his mother could see, and Ayana gave yet another fond smile, naming the boy Kunihiro just before her eyes fluttered shut and she succumbed to her exhaustion.

The younger son, the second son.

The second son.

Second.

Those five minutes turned out to be the most crucial, the most critical part of his life, for they defined just how it would be for him for the rest of his life.

And he hadn't been really, truly alive for them.

It was horrible, it was unfair, it was unjust.

And it was all precious, older Kunimitsu's fault.

"...and make sure you drag your sorry ass back here every once in a while! Damn it, Hiro, we're still just writing this letter and we miss you already.

You make it so very easy to miss you, you asshole.

Call. Email. PM. Visit.

Or we'll kidnap you and keep you hostage. That means no free food."

Tezuka Kunihiro laughed to himself, ignoring the evil looks the flight stewardess was shooting in his direction. She'd been over by his seat plenty of times during the flight already, and before the Fasten Seatbelt sign blinked on, he'd thought maybe he could have liked her. She had been a great flirt, and an even bigger tease, but that was before she decided she would have to take her job seriously and glare at him because he refused to put on his seatbelt.

Hiro didn't see the use. It wasn't as if he was going to fly off of the plane if he didn't fasten his seatbelt anyway.

He turned back to his letter. It had been the collective effort of all his friends, as was obvious from the differing handwritings and the many different signatures. Or rather, the many different pseudo-signatures. They didn't really sign it so much as stick pictures or drew on it, and as a result, there was a rather huge pink kiss mark covering about half of the bottom part of the page.

If it had been by choice, Hiro would have still been there, and he would have stayed there for a very long time.

He liked it there.

There, there was only him. There, he was not second to Kunimitsu in anything; Kunimitsu wasn't even known to exist there. He could stop having to play tennis without people talking about how suprising it was, when tennis had been shared by him and Kunimitsu, he could slack off without being compared to Kunimitsu, he could have fun and party without people going, "His brother isn't anything irresponsible like that."

There he would have happily stayed for the rest of his life.

That had always been the plan.

But sometimes, plans, even the most carefully-laid ones, get ruined.

He stowed the letter away just as the plane touched down, and he gave the flight stewardess, who was still glaring, one last playful wink before he filed away with all the other passengers of the flight.

The airport was as crowded as he last remembered, when he left about two years ago. He'd grown much since then, having gone through a growth spurt on his second year. It wasn't any different, now that he looked around, but then again, he hadn't been making any considerable effort to commit anything to memory.

Around him, many people mingled. A lot more were waiting by the gate, holding up name placards or Welcome home! posters, and there was more than one family blocking the entrance because they were having their tearful, heartfelt reunions.

No one was there to fetch him. It wasn't because they were too busy, or that they didn't want to. If he had bothered to call, his mother would have had a full welcoming party waiting for him. She hadn't made a secret of her desire that he go home; she'd never wanted him to leave in the first place, and if it was up to her, he would have stayed and he never would have even considered leaving.

But it wasn't up to her.

It wasn't her fault, either, because that was just the way things were. She was a wonderful mother, but even so, there were problems she couldn't fix.

Not if she wasn't aware of them in the first place.

He hailed a cab and gave his old address. The name felt foreign to his tongue now. It's been almost three years. He looked out the passing landscape, all tall building obscuring the summer sky. Japan had not really changed that much, and the little that it did, he wasn't able to notice.

He'd been much too eager to leave.

He didn't want to be in the same household as Kunimitsu. He didn't even want to be in the same country as him, so when the exchange student program was offered, he immediately jumped on the chance to get away. He filled out all the requirements by himself, spent a grueling four hours trying to convince his parents and his grandfather that it was a good idea, and the next many hours after that trying to console his devastated mother.

And then he left and he didn't look back.

Once he stepped into foreign soil, he worked on completely severing all but the few important ties to his homeland. He learned the language, immersed himself in the culture, made friends. He even sheared off half his name, cutting it down to Hiro, because he shared the first part with three other people.

And one of them was a person he particularly hated.

His only contact with before were the mandatory emails with his mother, and even though he did miss her very much, as much as he missed his father and grandfather, those emails were short and to the point.

None of them ever asked about how his own brother was doing.

Somehow, his mother seemed to magically find a way to insert them in anyway. It was those notes that he never read, and his mother, at least, had enough tact to know to put them at the last part so Hiro always knew to skip those parts.

He was dropped off at a familiar gate, bearing the familiar kanji, announcing it to be the Tezuka household. He smiled despite himself, the nostalgia kicking in before he could help it. It had been long, and even though he worked hard not to, he missed it.

He didn't miss Kunimitsu, but he missed this.

And it was just another thing that Kunimitsu had taken away from him.

He half-dragged, half-carried his luggage to the front door, and rang the doorbell, stomping on the urge to shift awkwardly on the front door of his own home.

It took only a few minutes before the door finally opened, revealing a smiling, but puzzled Tezuka Ayana in a frilly white apron, wiping her hands on a small hand towel.

"Kunimitsu," she was saying. "I thought you said you wouldn't be home for dinner..." And trailed off when she took in the luggage, and the person standing in front of her.

"Kunihiro..." she whispered, bringing her hand to her mouth, tears coming to her eyes.

And then she jumped into his arms – he was taller than her now – and started bawling.

"You're back."

Hiro looked up the ceiling of his room. It, too, had not changed any since the last time he saw it. There were still the glow-in-the-dark stars that he'd stuck there himself, when he had been six and rebellious. The biggest pseudo-constellation was that of a tennis ball, and it dominated the center of his ceiling. There were still the tennis posters; he'd torn them, he remembered, but somehow, his mother always finds a way to buy the same poster and stick them in his room so they'd be waiting for him when he got back from school.

There was his first racket, the white-framed one, the one that was the twin of Kunimitsu's own, just like he was the twin of his brother. He'd used it all of one tournament, and never used it ever again.

Hiro closed his eyes and wished for sleep. He was tired. He'd spent all of dinner answering questions from his mother, father and grandfather, and smiling and listening to all the stories his mother had neglected to write to him about. Then, there was tea and a talk with his grandfather, and then an awkward welcome home hug from his father, before he finally settled in his room, lying down, staring at his star-filled ceiling.

Yes, he was staying for good. No, there had been no problem, he just wanted to get home. No, he didn't want to wait up for Kunimitsu, who, according to his parents, was out late practicing again.

He, most expressively, did not want to wait for Kunimitsu.

He didn't want to see him, or hear of him, and he wanted to avoid him as much as possible.

He could do that, right?

A knock on the door cut off his thoughts, and he rolled over to the side, watching the soft fluttering of his curtains. "Door's open, Mother."

And the door did open, except it didn't take with it his mother's gushing clinginess. For a very long moment, there was only silence, long and awkward, and very familiar.

"I was talking to Mother," Hiro bit out, already angry, even though he hadn't even started talking yet. Why the fuck was he even here? Couldn't he leave Hiro well enough alone? Why did he not get the fact that no, Hiro did not want to talk to him, or hear him or see him, or even be related to him?

Had his leaving not made it obvious enough?

There was silence again, and for a while, it was only breathing and the rustling of cloth as his brother shifted weight from one foot to another.

Finally, Kunimitsu said, "She said you were home."

Hiro resisted the urge to throw him out of the room. "Obviously." He could feel his brother's gaze on him. It was intense and familiar, and it ignited the fire of his hatred even more. Hiro found himself actually trembling in his bed, and holding back to urge to snap, to fight, was taking up all of his effort.

"Are you staying for good?"

If Hiro had the choice, no. He was the one who wanted to leave, remember, Kunimitsu? If things had gone the way he wanted, he would never have come back. Not here, not with him.

Hiro turned rolled over until he was facing his brother. Kunimitsu had changed, just as much as he had changed. The same hair, the same eyes, maybe even the same height, and excepting the glasses that Kunimitsu had but he didn't, they could very well have been the same person.

And he hated that.

He returned his borther's gaze with a glare. "Why do you care?"

His brother gazed steadily back, unperturbed by his outburst, as he was with everything else. No matter what Hiro did, or said, there was only ever one single expression on Kunimitsu's face, and it never changed, not even so much as a twitch.

"You're my brother," Kunimitsu declared, still with the fierce, intense gaze. He didn't even blink. Even now, it was all about him. Hiro had just gotten back home, but it was all about Kunimitsu.

Because he was Kunimitsu's brother.

Not the other way around. It never could be the other way around.

Hiro suddenly knew that if he stayed, the conflict he'd worked so hard to semi-hide from his mother would finally become painfully obvious.

"That never mattered before," he said, getting up, and working to fix his shirt.

"It does."

"Liar."

Kunimitsu observed him silently, making no other move but to follow Hiro's every action with his eyes. "I don't lie," he replied quietly, and Hiro resisted the urge to scoff.

Of course he did, he was a master at it. Kunimitsu lied everyday, because no one could be that perfect.

No one could ruin someone else's life that much and not even notice.

"Get out of my way," Hiro stood before his brother, eyes to eye. They were of the same height, and just about the same bearing, but he stared Kunimitsu down until his brother gave in and moved aside his doorway.

It was only when he was at the head of the stairs that Kunimitsu spoke again. "Where are you going?"

Hiro's blood prickled. Why do you need to know, bastard? "Out," he snapped, turning around and scowling. "Do I need your permission?"

Kunimitsu did not flinch, did not change expression, just watch him for a very long time. Hiro stared defiantly right back.

"I'm your-"

"Look," Hiro said, cutting him off, not wanting to hear anything from him again, not tonight. He was tired, he was cranky, and he hated him. "You stay away from my business, and I'll stay away from yours."

No reaction once again. It was as if Kunimitsu didn't care. Why should he? Hiro cared even less.

"Fair enough?"

And then he whirled around and slammed the front door shut before his mother could notice and ask about the problem.

No matter what she did, she couldn't fix it.

It had been ruined ever since the moment he'd been born.

There were no stars, not really, and if he looked at the sky and only the sky, maybe he could pretend that he wasn't here, and he was back in his dorm, with his dorm mates who knew nothing about his home life, and more importantly, the twin brother that he hated. The sky was the same wherever you were in the world, if you didn't pay attention to the stars that marked the locations, which was exactly what Hiro was doing. This could very well be the sky that he saw when he looked out of his window in his dorm, not that he did, but still.

He didn't like it here, all this neighborhood ever had was bad memories.

He impatiently tried to zip up his jacket against the growing cold of the night. It was still summer, but he knew it would only grow colder, it was nearing autumn, after all. If he was still in his old dorm, they'd be starting up the Halloween decorations by now, even though it was still many months before the season even began. His dorm mates would already be Christmas shopping.

He sighed. He was in Japan now, in his old home. There was no good in thinking about the golden days of the last few years. He could survive this. He did it before, he could do it again.

Besides, it wasn't as if he brought home something Kunimitsu could take away.

Not this time.

Hiro liked to think he was a smart person, and smart people learned from their mistakes. Hiro would, sure as hell, not make the same mistake over again.

Coming out of his thoughts, he looked around to find that his feet had taken him to the street tennis courts. The corners of his mouth quirked up. Even though he'd stopped playing, it figures that he'd end up unconciously walking here. Before, this had been the center of his entire existence. His life had, once upon a time, revolved in tennis.

But that had only been once upon a time.

Now it wasn't, not anymore. His own brother made sure of that.

That didn't mean he couldn't feel nostalgic. He took a few steps into the dim courts, inhaling the scent of tennis that always seemed to linger in the air. This same scent had once made him feel so happy, so alive, so real. He'd step into the courts and just breathe it all in, and he was so sure then, that this was where he belonged, and it was where he would belong still, in the future.

He was wrong, but he'd been naive a long time ago.

He wasn't so naive now.

A small sound made him back up all the way to the edge of the courts once again, looking around his surroundings warily. It was still dark and there were no stars, but his eyes had gotten used to the darkness with only the moon's soft light illuminating the night.

Years from now, perhaps, Hiro was sure that he'd remember this moment. It wasn't in a fancy setting, in a fancy time, but it was the moment that he was sure would change his life, turn it around.

Because in this very moment, Hiro first set his eyes on the most beautiful creature that ever walked the planet.

There was a boy, and Hiro wasn't sure how he knew it was a boy, just that he did. That boy was leaning against one of the benches by the courts. His head was supported by the seat of the bench, while he sat on the ground. There were stray tennis balls around him, and, Hiro noticed that despite the fact that the boy was practically lying on the ground, his racket was carefully placed on the seat of the bench by his head.

The moon gave his skin an almost ethereal glow, and from Hiro's limited vision, it turned his hair into a wonderful light shade of brown that reminded him of honey. What limited light there was loved him, illuminating his high cheekbones, his pointed nose, his pink perfect lips. His eyes were closed, and his long, thick lashes fluttered against the skin of his cheek as he breathed rhythmically in and out, and in and out.

Hiro found himself matching that breathing. There was a serenity about the boy, a sort of innate grace that was there, even as he was still, and Hiro imagined what it would be like, when he was finally moving.

And then the boy's relaxed posture stiffened.

"Who's there?" a rich, cultured and almost-melodic voice called out.

Hiro stiffened, torn by two separate urges to run or to stay. But before he could make his decision, it was too late, and he was met with the most enchanting sapphires for eyes.

What it was like, looking through the boy's eyes, Hiro could not describe. It was like... It was like...

It was like after fourteen years of his life, his heart finally learned how to beat.

The boy was the one who broke eye contact first, blinking, almost like in disbelief. Then his eyes fluttered shut as he stood up, with as much grace as there was when he had only been sitting there, and he gave Hiro a smile that started the tingles in his stomach. There was a warmth and a gentleness to that smile, and Hiro could feel the warmth rushing to his face.

Thank heavens for the darkness, or he would have embarassed himself with blushing because of a simple smile.

The night breeze sent the strands of the boy's honey hair dancing, and as it reached Hiro, it brought with it the scent of vanilla and apple and something Hiro couldn't identify altogether that set his senses on fire.

"Back so soon?" the boy asked. There was a teasing lilt in his voice, and an air of friendly familiarity that shouldn't be there, because they were complete and total strangers.

Hiro felt something akin to dread settle on his stomach.

Please, let this boy not know who his brother was. Please, let this boy be a stranger. Please, don't let him be second to his brother again.

Not this time.

Not for this boy.

Don't let him know Kunimitsu.

The boy tilted his head to the side, rather adorably, his face taking on mild confusion, and Hiro found himself wishing harder.

And then, in the same melodic, gentle voice, the boy called out, and Hiro knew his wish had been left unanswered.

"Tezuka?"

So, there you guys have it :) English is not my first language so please do forgive the errors, if there are any. I let my friend read through this, and between the both of us, we figured we reduced the grammar mistakes to a minimum, but we're not perfect so... If you have time, I'd love to hear from you guys so... Review?

Oh, and Happy Christmas to everyone :)

/silverglitters