He was never the one to talk about his love at all. No, he was too calm and Zen for that. And it didn't really matter to him while Tezuka was still around; it was after he left for that scholarship overseas that it hit Fuji Syusuke how empty he was.
It was a week before Christmas and it was raining. Fuji sat in class, biting his pen thoughtfully as he watched the rain splatter on the window outside his classroom. The teacher was ranting about something that either Syusuke already knew about or could learn on his own in a matter of ten minutes. Either way, it really was pointless to be in class.
It's raining, Tezuka. The rain depresses me for some reason. Actually, lately, I don't think I've been smiling that often—or rather, not meaning it when I smile. Maybe the rain depresses me because of you; you liked the rain …
He swatted a lock of his hazel-nut hair out his eyes as he started thinking about the last time he really remembered being in the rain: the day Tezuka Kunimitsu had left. He could still remember the moaning and the groaning in Tezuka's empty room as Tezuka moved inside him. He recalled the sound of raindrops beating against the fogged window. He even recalled clearly, although it had been two years ago, exactly how Tezuka looked and smelled like. It was as if it was yesterday.
Fuji hated thinking about Tezuka all the time. It really had been distracting him from his normal, daily life. But he didn't know why he thought about his former captain so much when it was all over. Was it obsession? Or just nostalgia?
I remember the way you looked, Tezuka; I remember the way our skin touched, the way we panted, the way everything felt. It felt so right, didn't it? At that moment?
Fuji sighed softly and looked at his own scribble. He didn't know why they had slept together, in a lone futon, for that one night. The teal-eyed beauty thought that it was a mere attraction and nothing else; but somehow it had changed everything between them. Forever.
His gazed was torn from the paper, then, and directed towards the window once more where the rain had softened, dancing its way to the ground gracefully.
I ask myself quite often why we even bothered to go through with it. Like the first time you kissed me. Why we bother with such things, I wonder. Are feelings behind these things?
He doubted it. Tezuka … having feelings for him? No. The only things Tezuka loved and felt for was tennis. Tennis was his true mistress at heart. Fuji had drawn the conclusion long ago that the stoic boy was rather just curious in experimenting—nothing else.
And that really had been Fuji's belief for some time, but lately, he had been questioning everything. Somehow it seemed wrong to answer his own questions; he wanted answers from Tezuka himself.
I wonder where you'll start writing to me again; soon I hope. I wonder when I'll be seeing you again. I wonder, still, if things between us will be awkward or not. I wonder if you miss me … or have a weird obsession over me as I have over you.
You will probably never really see this letter. I'm thinking about throwing it away … or maybe giving it to you if things get out of hand.
The seventeen-year-old heaved a heavy sigh as the bell rang in a distance. He tore the notebook paper and stuffed it in the pockets of his pants, still deep in thought.
Practice was cancelled that day and Fuji made his way home unceremoniously, a black umbrella hovering over his head. The teal-eyed boy felt like as if he was a ghost amongst the living. Maybe he was, after all.
"Fujiiiiiiii"
Whirling around, he saw a redheaded, jubilant boy that very much resembled a ginger house kitten: Kikumaru Eiji. Fuji tilted his head a little in surprise before putting up his friendly smile.
"Eiji-kun," Fuji said politely, forgetting his worries and thoughts for a moment. That's how it usually was; when he dealt with people, he forgot about his own problems.
"Neh, Fujiko," Eiji said in a childish tone as he stopped in his tracks before stopping before the tensai. "I have some news for you"
"Oh?" Fuji couldn't help being startled.
"Hai." The redheaded student put a hand on Fuji's slender shoulder. "Did you hear? Tezuka-buchou is coming back to Japan for the holidays! Ryuzaki-sensei thought it would be a good idea to throw a welcome-back party for him or something. I personally think that a party would spoil him, but—"
Syusuke tuned out the rest of what his friend had to say; if he had heard right, the person he couldn't get off his mind was coming back to visit.
Mixed emotions began to well up inside Fuji as he stared somewhere above Eiji's colorful umbrella. Why hadn't he called Fuji? Why hadn't he said anything? Why was Fuji the last person to find about him coming for a visit? At the same time, Fuji felt so giddy (he did not know that feeling even existed within him anymore, but apparently it did). Tezuka … finally coming to see him.
No, he shouldn't think like that. After all, the former buchou wasn't coming from abroad to see him specifically. Hell, Tezuka hadn't even informed him first; Nonetheless, Fuji grinned, for the first time really meaning it, and said to Eiji, "Hmm, that's good then. I'll be there."
Fuji Syusuke sat along the edge of his bed in his room, contemplating. There were two hours left to the party Ryuzaki-sensei had thrown for the return of Tezuka in the Momoshiro's sushi house.
Still pensive, the distracted boy grabbed at his bath towel, automatically stepping in the bathroom down the hall.
His older sister, Yumiko, caught him before he could close the door. "Syusuke."
"Neh," Fuji smiled. "Nee-san. What's up?"
"Ma … just wanted to know," she said, flipping her hair. "Are you going somewhere tonight?"
"Going out." There was no need for details, really.
"Need a ride?"
"I can get there myself."
Yumiko eyed him before her lips curled into a small smile. "Don't blow it again this time, okay?"
When he closed the bathroom door behind him, he caught his own reflection in the mirror and frowned. Did his sister know something? Women were truly really weird; their intuitions and "gut feelings" were amongst things that scared Fuji the most. And, maybe, even though it was impossible, Yumiko knew about Tezuka?
Fuji shook his head in disbelief. No gut feelings strong enough would've predicted that.
He let the lukewarm water touch his skin and shivered instantaneously. For reasons unknown to him, he always seemed to have a clearer mind when he showered. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't have to smile constantly or keep others happy at all time. It was just him and the walls around him. No masks, no false facades.
As Fuji watched the steam rise in distinct shapes and figures, he thought about what he would say or how he would react when he met his former captain again. What would he do? What would he say?
He really did hate how things had gotten so wrong. Why couldn't things just go back to the way they were supposed to be? Why couldn't things be so much simpler than this? He didn't want to be awkward with Tezuka. He didn't even want to think about putting on yet another mask that would hide his real self from Tezuka.
Come to think of it, Tezuka was the only one Fuji usually never really put up a false mask on in front of. So … did it mean something was wrong if he started doing that now? Yes, definitely. Things wouldn't ever be the same with Tezuka again, would they?
About ten minutes later, Fuji was in his bedroom, drying himself off—though he was still very distracted. He put on his best shirt and a pair of jeans, standing up to his full height to examine himself in the mirror in the corner of his room.
Fuji heaved a soft sigh as he locked eyes with his own reflection one last time before turning around to leave the house; maybe he wasn't ready for this after all.
At eight o'clock, Fuji stood before the restaurant's glass, double doors, fumbling with the hem of his shirt unconsciously. Finally, he pushed through the doors and stepped in the restaurant, smiling as he always did.
"Fuji-kun," Oishi remarked as he spotted the brown-haired boy.
"Neh?" Eiji, who was sitting next to him, said, tilting his head just a bit. "Fujiko's here? Nyaaa"
After greeting all of the former regulars of Seigaku, Fuji took the seat next to Kawamura Takashi, who looked timid as ever. Fuji was honestly tempted to place a racquet in his hands just to see his face go crimson as he yelled on top of his lungs, "BURNING!"
The tensai chuckled at his own thoughts and broke his chopsticks into two separate ones; he looked around for Tezuka, but he didn't seem to be there yet.
"Has Tezuka-san arrived yet?" Fuji asked Kawamura in a half-whisper as everyone continued to have chatter. Even Echizen Ryoma seemed to be hitting it off with that freshman girl … what was her name now? Sakuno-san?
Kawamura had just shook his head in reply to Fuji's question when the double doors swung open once more with Tezuka Kunimitsu overlooking the crowd.
Everyone grew silent, and they all stared at him as if he was some sort of god they had waited to see for such a long time. In a way, that was actually a fact.
Fuji almost dropped his chopsticks as his vision locked with intense brown eyes behind thin, square glasses. The boy had not changed at all. He still had the stoic face he had two years ago; he even wore the same solemn expression Fuji remembered he gave him before boarding the plane that took him to America.
"Hello everyone," he said at last, waving a timid hand, greeting the familiar of his teammates, his friends with his eyes—did they seem tired, actually?
He faced the tensai and Fuji found out very fast that they awkwardness, the bond that was created between them … it was all still there. And it had just taken one look to remember a lifetime of what Fuji had tried to forget over two years.
"Syusuke."
Fuji flinched, having heard his first name flow from his lips so carelessly. "Kunimitsu," he replied, grinning ever-so maliciously.
After the heavy atmosphere of the restaurant turned back into distinct chattering, Kawamura silently disappeared, leaving Tezuka and Fuji together. Were they really that apparent?
Although it felt like there was a cauldron brewing and boiling inside him, Fuji never really lost his face; maybe that really was a curse and a gift simultaneously. He just asked coolly, "How was America?"
Tezuka sighed as he took his place next to the slightly shorter boy. "They're really different."
Fuji busied himself with opening a small pack of wasabi so he didn't have to make direct eye contact. "Different?" he echoed.
"Hai. Different. They have no such thing as respect, really." From the corner of his eyes, Fuji saw that Tezuka shifted uncomfortably in his seat. They were both avoiding each other and they both knew it.
"When are you going back?" Fuji asked, this time looking directly into the other's pupils seriously.
"Two weeks," Tezuka croaked.
There was a pregnant silence between them as the restaurant buzzed with a concealed excitement. Fuji swore he saw the Golden Pair, Oishi Syuichirou and Kikumaru Eiji kiss briefly before looking around unnervingly to see if anyone had witnessed them. Kaidoh and Momoshiro were arguing passionately again, although both were flushing fervently.
It was Tezuka who finally broke the silence. "How have you been?"
"Distracted, lately," Fuji shrugged, not seeing the point on saying anything else.
"Really?" The other boy seemed to be taken aback a little. "Why?"
"I've been thinking a lot about you," he blurted. Then realizing what he had said, his eyes grew wide in shock and he looked away. God, he knew this would be a disaster. And so did Yumiko, apparently.
Tezuka didn't say anything. Instead, Fuji felt his warm hand take his abruptly and awkwardly; when the tensai looked up, Tezuka's stoic face was warm and friendly.
He was smiling as if he had finally understood all of the world's mysteries.
The night at the restaurant ended pretty vicariously. Momoshiro, son of the owner of the very restaurant, ended up drunk from drinking too much sake. Apparently, he had lost a bet—against Kaidoh, of course. They were all grateful he hadn't gotten alcohol poisoning over a stupid bet.
Tezuka, bless his soul, found it in his soul to lecture Kaidoh for making a bet in the first place. Fuji remained in the background, as always, smiling to himself as he realized how much things reminded him of the old days when Tezuka was still their captain; the time he had always taken for granted.
Still, that did not misdirect him from the path he and Tezuka had taken earlier in the night; he still very vividly remembered the electric shock he had felt as they had held hands in secret, under the table, both shyly beaming at each other.
He had to admit that he was very perplexed—by his own emotions at least. Infatuation, he concluded, it was. It couldn't be anything else. He had known Tezuka for years and he knew that he, of all people, wouldn't be able to love the bespectacled boy.
After cleaning up and helping Momoshiro-san clean up his restaurant, Fuji and Tezuka left the place in silence, as though knowing that their fate was to be decided if either of them spoke up.
"Ma …" Tezuka finally said. "Come over to my apartment. We still have a lot to talk about."
"Hai."
And that was all that was said between them until they arrived at the said apartment.
It was, as the teal-eyed boy remembered it, the same as if had been the last night Tezuka had spent in Tokyo. Fuji's heartbeat inclined steadily as he realized the room looked the same as it did last time; it was bare of any furniture or decorations. The lone desk lamp in the corner was the only source of light in the room, which, consequentially, cast long, cobweb-like shadows on the walls.
Fuji felt a shiver down his spine as Tezuka motioned for him to sit down on the tatami mat on the ground.
"Sorry about this," he motioned to his surroundings. "I haven't quite settled in yet."
Fuji nodded in silence, his gaze dropping to his hands. He couldn't bare look at that stoic face anymore without every piece of him shattering in bits and pieces.
"What's going on, Syusuke?" was the simple question Tezuka asked that made Fuji fidget, twiddling his thumbs nervously.
He didn't know what to say, because he didn't know the answer himself. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I just know I'm very confused right now."
The taller boy nodded in agreement, taking a seat right next to Fuji. "That goes for the two of us."
For some reason, though, Tezuka didn't look it. He didn't look confused. He didn't look lost and pained. All Fuji wanted to do was hurt him for appearing so strong and so determined. It was actually something Fuji had admired and hated about him for all their time together. But it was something he had concealed; all the jealousy and admiration were surfacing now.
He gazed in Tezuka's brilliant eyes, biting on his lower lip apprehensively. "What happened between us, Kunimitsu-san, was it real?" he said, his voice unusually steady.
Tezuka tore his gaze from the other boy as he spoke. "Did you want it to be."
Great, Fuji thought bitterly. Reverse psychology.
He was starting to lose his patience. "Like I said, I was confused."
Tezuka shrugged. "It was a spur-of-a-moment thing to do, wasn't it?"
Fuji felt the world crash around him; and was it just him or did the room suddenly seem smaller? He was afraid to hear this. "Yes," he replied nonetheless.
Silence.
The rain started tapping on the window ever-so slightly, as if cruelly reminding them that they were not alone.
Fuji started for the window, pressing his palm to the cool window. This was crazy; he would wake up tomorrow and have a normal Christmas like other people. Tezuka wouldn't even be here; this would all be a dream.
The sound of thunder somewhere overhead brought Fuji back to reality and back to the cramped apartment room. He looked over his shoulders, out of the corner of his eyes, to see that the other boy was watching him rather intently.
"Is that how you feel?" The voice that spoke wasn't his. He was on automatic pilot, although something shouted Mayday! Mayday! in his head dangerously.
He knew he was hiding his own feelings; oh yes, they were there now. The foreboding feelings. It was wrong to be with another boy, wasn't it? Look at what his parents had done to poor Yuuta for running off with that boy, Saeki.
Tezuka's deep voice came back from behind him as he continued to watch the rain, hypnotized. "What do you feel? Why did you say that in the restaurant?"
Better question yet, Fuji mused, why did you hold my hand?
They were both treading a thin line here. He couldn't take the tension anymore; he had to do something. Anything. He couldn't just go on everyday, regretting (like he did for the past two years) what they had done the night of Tezuka's departing.
"Because you're on my mind all the time!" he cried as he turned to face his friend, narrowing his eyes as he did so. "Because of thought about you every morning I've woken up since you left. I've wanted to hear the answers from you. I wanted to know if-if things were going to be back to normal. I've had a thousand scenarios in my head and none of them seem to satisfy me! I had to ask why. Why you, of all people? Why did I have to fall in love with you? You don't have any feelings. All you care about is tennis; that's why you left. I don't even matter to you. You stopped writing to me. I had to hear from Kikumaru that you were coming tonight!"
With that, the seventeen-year-old sank to the ground, trying to wipe any evidence of weakness before Tezuka saw him. But he had no energy within him anymore. As he sat there and wept, he felt, for the first time, so free. It was absolutely amazing.
He felt strong arms wrap around him, trying to calm him down and stop him from shaking.
Tezuka held Fuji for some time, neither of them daring to disturb the discomfiture that was created between them. The pitter-patter of the rain upon the window grew louder, as if only to give them a blanket of safety for discussing things that weren't supposed to be discussed, suppressing liberated feelings that were meant to be concealed.
Tears usually made Fuji tired; ergo, he was exhausted when he had calmed down completely from his angry fit earlier on. His eyes drooped as he fell into an uneasy sleep in Tezuka's arms. It was pretty ironic how he ran from him, yet longed to be touched by him at the same time. Fuji was a complete contradiction.
Tezuka Kunimitsu looked at Fuji, caressing his soft, brown hair. He adjusted his glasses on his nose with his free hand as he sighed.
He needed to stop hiding in his cave; it was time to plunge in through his fears and doubts to save what he cherished most.
Although the rain had stopped by the following morning, the sky hadn't cleared out yet. A mixture of white and silver clouds obstructed the sun's rays from citizens of Tokyo.
Fuji's eyes fluttered open, staring at the sole window which illuminated the whole room. He glanced up, watching Tezuka, who had fallen asleep propped against the apartment wall, his glasses still perched on his nose. His mouth was half-open and Fuji smiled to himself as he heard Tezuka mutter in his sleep.
Fuji's smile faded away into thin air when he recalled why he was here in the first place. Had it really been him last night? It couldn't have been. Everything was always all right with him. He just had to always smile and bear it. That had been his philosophy. Apparently, when it came to what he really felt, it didn't matter.
He didn't want to move. He didn't want to go anywhere. He didn't care that he hadn't told anyone where he was going to be. He didn't want to deal with life right now. All he needed, all he really wanted was to curl up as he did now, and lay in Tezuka's arms forever.
Screwing his face in concentration, he tried to remember what he had dreamt of. It was as if the more time passed by, the less he remembered. Fuji squeezed his eyes shut, as if by doing so, he would hold on to already passing thoughts.
"You look silly, making that face."
Fuji's eyes shot open. Tezuka was hovering over him with a smirk on his face. "Sleep well?"
"Mm-hmm!" Fuji nodded, grinning. Back to normal, he thought. "Did you?"
Tezuka winced as he tried to stand up. "Ever try sleeping upright all night?"
Fuji laughed softly, yet he still refused to look into the other boy's eyes. He was aware, though, that Tezuka was watching his every move.
"Syusuke," he finally said, moving towards him. "We need to talk."
Fuji looked up, still smiling. "Did you not see how that ended last night?"
Tezuka shook his head and sighed, mustering every ounce of confidence he had. "I meant from me."
He froze. Now that Fuji thought about it, Tezuka had stayed silent the whole time last night; but amongst his confusing thoughts, Fuji had neglected to become conscious of that fact.
"I'm listening," Fuji said, crossing the room to open the window; the atmosphere of the room was suffocating. His heart pulse quickened as he felt the excitement and anxiety course through his body.
"It … it did mean something to me; I lied." Though Tezuka hadn't specified what "it" he was talking about, Fuji understood perfectly he meant their relationship. He could hear his heartbeat in his ear as Tezuka went on. "It's why I came back."
"You came back because of me?" Fuji didn't even try to hide the surprise in his voice.
Tezuka made a low grunting noise to affirm the fact. Fuji turned his gaze from the window and stared at Tezuka's features—his flawless dark brown hair, his perfectly rectangular spectacles, his faultless face.
"Why?" was the only thing Fuji managed to say.
"I couldn't keep lying to myself. I kept putting off the fact that you meant something to me. I couldn't stop thinking about you on rainy days. I could barely concentrate on anything, although none of it eventually mattered. I've come back for good."
Fuji's eyes grew wide as he leaned back against the wall for support, trying to grasp all that the taller boy had said just now. "You're not going back?"
Tezuka shrugged casually. "I'm going to continue studying here, in Tokyo—"
"But two years of hard work," Fuji said calmly, trying to be rational, "you're just going to throw that away?"
"If it means getting you back again…" Tezuka trailed off as he realized what he had said. He blushed madly, looking away quickly.
Oh, this definitely was surreal. Maybe he hadn't woken up yet, Fuji thought, and this was all a dream after all.
Both of them were quiet, neither not knowing what to say to the other. Although Fuji was bursting with joy and pleasure, he kept his composure and just stole small glances at Tezuka now and then, as if to figure out what the other boy was thinking.
Fuji turned towards the window once more, leaving Tezuka alone. He knew his former buchou, after all—possibly too well. He needed space and time to think.
The tensai heard footsteps around him, his heartbeat increasing again, as two strong hands wrapped around his small torso. He felt Tezuka's hot breath stroke his neck gently as the taller boy laid his head on Fuji's shoulder. In return, the shorter boy craned his neck a little to plant a small kiss on Tezuka's cheek.
Before he knew it, Tezuka had locked lips with his, pressuring him against the cool glass.
"Nnn…" Fuji moaned as the other boy's tongue rolled on to his, taking control. As oxygen became an important factor for both their lungs, Tezuka broke off reluctantly and laid his head tiredly on Fuji's chest.
Fuji slipped his fingers into Tezuka's soft locks, his breathing labored. He closed his eyes as the taste of Tezuka lingered in his mouth, tantalizing him. "Is this real?" he wondered aloud.
"As long as you want it to be," whispered the bespectacled boy.
"Do you want this?"
"Only if you want it."
He held Tezuka tight as though by doing so, he would never have to see him leave again. Fuji cracked a real smile as he rested his chin on Tezuka's head. He memorized every inch of the lean and study muscles of his back with the tip of his fingers.
For the first time in his life time, things seemed to go right.
Tezuka could feel the warmth of Fuji's body.
The truth was that insecurity resided in both him and his teal-eyed beauty. And if Fuji hadn't acted upon what Tezuka suspected was instinct, they might have been on very different terms at the moment.
For however long, they just held each other, both glad that they had finally broken their bonds from diffidence and lack of confidence.
Tezuka felt Fuji's fretful pulse as he tightened his grip around Fuji. "What are you so worried about?" he finally asked.
"Us," Fuji said in a hashed tone. "Being together, I mean." His vision borrowed Tezuka, and the stoic boy could see fear buried deep beyond Fuji's smiling face.
"Would it matter, though?" Tezuka inquired, running his fingers through Fuji's incredibly soft hair.
"Not at all," Fuji continued smiling. "It will just be unpleasant."
Tezuka laced his fingers with the boys'. "What would you do?"
"If I do end up like Yuuta … then I guess I'll do the same thing he did." Fuji mused, grinning from ear to ear now. "I'll just have to run away with you."