My Brother's Keeper

AU, TezukaFuji. As brothers, their bond was unbreakable, and as lovers, their passion was unending. But when a ghost of the past shows up to haunt Syusuke's perfect life, Tezuka realizes that he cannot protect his little brother from everything.

Disclaimer: Hopefully the Birthday Santa will bring me Tenipuri for my birthday, but seriously, I doubt it.

A/N: A start of fall gift to myself for my own birthday (yes, call me a narcissist, I dare you!) No, but seriously. Lots of thanks to Angela for the prompt: What if Fuji and Tezuka were brothers? I kind of just had too much fun and ran with it. It's AU for a reason, people, although it's weirdly cannon in some parts. I have no idea where this is going, it probably won't go anywhere, but the concept is too fun!!

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Chapter Zero

Growing Pains

-

"Ne, Kunimitsu, how would you feel if Mommy got you a little brother?"

Tezuka Kunimitsu was five years old. But at five, it was clear to everyone around him that he was an extremely precocious child. Even so, his mother probably found it hard to snap out of the way that most mothers talked to their five year olds.

He hadn't attended kindergarten. His grandfather had insisted that he stay home, for there was more to learn at home, than at school, and his grandfather's word was law in the house. So now, he spent mornings doing calligraphy, afternoons tending the garden, and evenings playing go. It was morning, and he laid down his brush and looked at his mother.

The first thing he did was inspect his mother's belly. He was not sure exactly why, but when babies were soon in coming, the mother's stomach swelled. His mother's stomach looked flat and normal. "...Are you pregnant?" He asked, after a moment's pause.

She looked surprised, "No." She was probably wondering how he knew the word. Tezuka knew it from a newspaper article. "But...see, I got a call from London the other day. There's this little boy that would like to become your little brother."

London...was far away. How could this boy in London possibly know who he was? Or perhaps he was thinking too much into it.

"See...he even sent you a picture."

Tezuka paused again, and looked at the snapshot that she handed him. It was of a single boy looking very lonesome in the middle of a big meadow. He wore overalls, but even though he was lonesome, he was smiling. And his eyes gleamed like the sky above him.

Turning the picture over, there was a name scrawled in the corner. It was in English, but because Tezuka was widely read, he knew the basics.

"Syu-su-ke." A Japanese name. Syusuke.

"...Is that his name?"

"Yes. I didn't know you read English." His mother forgot childspeak in her surprise. "His name is Syusuke. Fuji Syusuke."

He looked from the photo to his mother, "I don't think...I would mind having a little brother." Tezuka said solemnly and handed the picture back.

She looked...relieved. "I think so too." And then shook her head, "The picture is yours to keep. Some sunshine in your life will do you good."

Later, Tezuka put the picture of his new little brother next to a picture of himself, taken when he had gone on a rare hiking trip with his father who always managed to be absent. He studied them, Syusuke was sunshine, his mother said, and Tezuka thought that he himself looked very much like a stormy raincloud. He found that they had nothing in common.

Except for the endless blue that stretched high above their heads.

-

Two months passed, each day passed slowly, and yet Tezuka was never idle. His mother insisted that this type of lifestyle was hardly healthy, nor was it suitable for a boy his age, Though his grandfather insisted otherwise, so now in the mornings, he still practiced calligraphy, the afternoon was still alloted for gardening, but in the evenings, there was only one game of go, and then he retreated up to his room for some time to himself.

He usually read, and now, since his little brother was from London, Tezuka took it upon himself to labor through an English novel with a dictionary at his side. He was about halfway through the thin novel, and it had taken days. He read five pages a day, and they seemed to him, very long pages.

Every once in a while, he would glance at the two pictures that sat side by side.

Like now, when his eyes were tired. Tezuka took off his glasses and flopped against the bed. Eight, in an hour, he'd have to go to bed. He was considering asking his grandfather for another game of go when his mother's voice floated up the stairs.

"Kunimitsu! He's here!"

-

He was here. Tezuka realized that practicing, 'My name is Kunimitsu Tezuka, I'm your big brother' in front of the mirror twenty times before he went to bed every night (in English of course) had been in vain. Each step down the stairs brought him closer to someone he all of the sudden did not have the nerves to face. Pride was important to Tezuka, the last thing he needed was to look completely foolish.

The rest of his family was gathered in the living room. His mother, his grandfather, and the small boy that sat tucked between them trying to be invisible on the couch.

"Come, Syusuke, don't be shy." His mother chided. "Here's Kunimitsu."

Tezuka cleared his throat, and forced the words out of his throat one by one.

"I'm Kunimitsu Tezuka, I'm your big brother." Just like he practiced.

Big blue eyes peeked out at him from behind a cushion. "You speak English?"

"A little."

That earned him a smile from Syusuke, a shy smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I speak Japanese too, a little." He demonstrated, "Sukoshi dake." He looked proud of himself. "Right?"

Tezuka nodded. Syusuke had rolled off the words with a strange European lilt, but he liked it. "Yes, that's right."

His mother beamed, and his grandfather tried hard not to look so pleased, but failed anyway. And then Tezuka's mother said, "Why don't you take Syusuke up to see his room?"

"I get my own room?"

Tezuka wondered why Syusuke looked and sounded so shocked. "Yes, you do. It's right next to mine. Come on."

-

"It's so...big. Do I have to sleep in here all by myself?"

But it was plain to see that Syusuke obviously approved of his new accommodations, for he flopped down on the big bed and giggled. "This bed is too big for one person. You come too." He patted the mattress invitingly.

Tezuka sat down, gingerly.

Syusuke rolled over, so that he was right next to where Tezuka sat. "Kunimitsu is your name, right?"

"Yes."

"It's so long. Can I make it shorter?"

Tezuka was dumbfounded. "How?"

"...Mitsu."

Tezuka choked. "What?"

A small hand patted his back, "You'll be Mitsu, okay?"

No, it was certainly not okay. 'Mitsu' made him sound like a girl and quite frankly, Tezuka despised the nickname. "How about...niisan?"

Syusuke's face wrinkled, "What does that mean?"

"Big brother."

For a moment, Syusuke's face fell. But then he smiled, just a few seconds later, "Are you really my big brother?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, I guess you can be niisan." Syusuke agreed amiably, "I still like Mitsu better though. It's cute. Kawaii."

Tezuka choked again.

This time, Syusuke pretended not to notice, "Can niisan sleep with me today in my room?"

He paused, Tezuka didn't really want to, but this was his little brother, and he had to be hospitable. "If you promise never to call me Mitsu again. Ever." He added, rather severely.

"Okay, I promise." Syusuke said, and then tugged him down, "Lie down."

"I am."

"I rode here on an airplane all by myself. I'm tired." And then Syusuke yawned and grew still. Tezuka lay beside him, unmoving. When he realized that his brother's breathing had grown completely still, he reached for a wayward blanket and dropped it over them both.

-

Tezuka was seven years old. And Syusuke was getting on to be seven. One of Tezuka's daily duties, now that his brother mastered Japanese to the best of his seven-year-old abilities, was to teach him calligraphy. Honestly, it wasn't a task that he particularly enjoyed.

"Why can't I write Fuji?" Syusuke pouted, "It's my name."

"Your name is Tezuka now." Tezuka told him sternly, "You have to write Tezuka." He dipped his brush into the inkwell again. "Here, watch me." On a clean piece of parchment, he wrote 'Tezuka' in bold strokes.

"But Fuji's easier to write." His brother protested and grabbed another brush, "See? One, and two, and three, and four, and five. That's 'Fu', and 'Ji' is just one, two. See? It's so easy, I can't write 'Tezuka'."

"Yes, you can. You're not trying hard enough." Tezuka sighed, he'd never known teaching calligraphy was this frustrating. "We'll write together."

He put his hand over Syusuke's, and guided the brush to the paper. "It's easy, you just have to practice. 'Te' is easy. And remember that this one stroke is the one that everyone messes up in 'Zuka'."

"Niisan doesn't mess it up though." Syusuke smiled at him.

"I did when I was learning." Tezuka admitted, and then he saw Syusuke's eyes widen, "What?"

"Niisan should stop frowning so much, niisan has wrinkles already." Syusuke poked his forehead as he spoke.

For that comment, Tezuka took his brush and painted a bold black stroke on his little brother's cheek. Though it earned him one of the severest scoldings he'd ever had to endure, it gave Tezuka more than a little satisfaction that stroke that did not wash off until a month later.

-

Tezuka was ten years old. Being ten meant a lot of things, it meant taking the bus by yourself to school, and taking the bus back. It meant club activities after school, although Tezuka really didn't consider himself as a club person. He'd only stayed because Syusuke did.

Syusuke found a niche in almost everything. He was now captain of the chess club, class vice president, (he could have been president if he wanted, but ceded the spot to Tezuka) founder of the art club and the reason most girls came to school. Even the older girls, the ones in sixth grade. Instead of envying Syusuke, Tezuka felt proud of him.

And besides, it wasn't as if Tezuka didn't have his own sphere of influence, he was captain of the go club, and the girls that didn't come for Syusuke came for Tezuka. He was also captain of the tennis club. Tennis was an unexpected interest that the two of them ended up sharing. And they became quite good at it too.

Though the one thing that bothered Tezuka just a little was that Syusuke blatantly refused to become his vice captain. His reasoning was simple, 'We're already class president and vice president, if we like this for tennis too, I think it will bother some people."

"What do you mean...bother?" Tezuka was perplexed, "We're good at what we do, this should be enough."

"Only because niisan is very fair. That's why you say that." Syusuke chided him, "Don't worry though, just because I'm not vice captain doesn't mean I won't be around." Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Syusuke stood, "Oh, I forgot to tell you, I'm not riding the bus with you today."

"Why?"

"I promised Yuriko-san I'd walk her home."

"Where does she live?"

"Half a block away from school. I think I'm just going to be ten fifteen minutes late. You're not going to tell on me, are you?"

Tezuka considered, he was not happy that Fuji took to walking random people home every day, but what could he do about it? "Are you going to catch the five-thirty bus?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll wait for you, if it's only ten fifteen minutes, I'll just stay here and practice my swings." Tezuka said, reaching for the racket he had just put away. "It's better if we come home together, grandfather will ask less questions. If he does, we'll just say practice ran late."

Syusuke suddenly rushed at him and Tezuka almost toppled backwards. "Niisan is the best! I'll try to hurry back."

-

Tezuka ended up practicing swings for a full hour and it was not until six-thirty until he spotted Syusuke slinking in the gates, trying to appear very inconspicuous. Tezuka only looked at him and sighed. The slightly smaller boy cringed at once and looked down at the ground.

"Niisan, I'm sorry, but Yuriko-san's mother was so nice and invited me in for some snacks and I guess I forgot the time, and..." Syusuke hung his head, "...I'm just making up excuses. Go ahead and scold, if you'd like." He said, with the air of a martyr.

"I don't scold." Tezuka walked back to the bench and slipped his racket in its case, "That's Grandfather's job. You know that."

"Niisan is scarier than Grandfather."

Tezuka weighed his tennis bag in one hand, "I am?"

Syusuke nodded, "A lot of girls want to ask you to walk home with them. Actually, I have a list. Most of them are too scared to ask for themselves." He waved a piece of pink stationery in Tezuka's face, "I have proof."

Tezuka could only shake his head, "Let's just go home, Syusuke. At this rate, I'm going to get scolded too."

This made Syusuke's face color, "Sorry, I didn't mean for you to..."

A pause, and then Tezuka settled a hand on his brother's head, "...Never mind, let's just go home."

-

Tezuka was twelve.

Twelve meant growing up too quickly, at least, for him. It wasn't like he was dead or anything, but it was Syusuke's orders for him to lie still while his brother ran off and got some more ice. He pressed a half melted ice pack to his throbbing arm.

"Niisan, I got some more ice."

He opened his eyes, Syusuke stared down at him. Tezuka shifted, "Is it okay for you to be wandering around while practice is still going on? I"m all right, my arm is just a little numb."

Syusuke frowned, "Well, Ryuzaki-sensei isn't...happy about it, but she said I could take as long as I needed to look after you."

"I don't need looking after." To prove his point, Tezuka propped himself up with his good arm...with some difficulty. "You're going to get in trouble if the senpais think you are loitering."

"I'm not loitering." Syusuke glowered, "I'm looking after you. You don't have to be so strong all the time, niisan. When it hurts, you can say it hurts. What am I going to do? Laugh at you?" He plopped down on a nearby stool, "Kimura-senpai shouldn't have done it. Just because you beat him didn't give him any right to hit you."

"I know."

"Why did you let him hit you?"

Tezuka looked at his brother, "If he hadn't hit me, he would have done something worse. I'd rather have him hit me."

Syusuke looked down at his hands, "But..." His voice got softer and softer, "...I wish he'd hit your right arm instead. If..."

"Syusuke, you're thinking too much." Tezuka said, although to his own ears, his words sounded quite heavy. "I'll be all right. If it gets that unbearable, I might just take up playing tennis permanently with my right hand."

"I hate it when niisan jokes, niisan's not funny at all."

Tezuka said nothing. He only sat up, with his legs dangling over the infirmary bed, lying down made him feel like an invalid – and an invalid his certainly was not. "I wasn't trying to be funny. Let's get back to practice. There's no sense in making everyone madder than they already are."

"They have no right to be mad." Syusuke stood up, "Are you mad?"

"A little."

"Niisan..."

Tezuka paused, he sighed. "Syusuke, stop it. Whining is not going to do you any good. I know you're upset. But try to let this blow over, all right? It will, like everything else."

"Arai-senpai shouldn't have made the regulars." His brother continued, as if he hadn't heard anything, "He couldn't even hit the ball properly, and all of his serves are bad. If you were captain, you wouldn't have let him on the team, right?"

But Tezuka was not captain. Tezuka was just a little meddlesome freshman with a loyal hound of a brother. He wondered if Syusuke knew what they said about him.

"Niisan?"

"Nothing, let's go."

-

Back on the courts, Tezuka looked at the ground to avoid jeering eyes. He was not ashamed, but he saw no need to stoke the fire. Syusuke stood quietly at his side and Yamato-buchou towered almost menacingly over them both.

At last, it was Syusuke who burst out, "Niisan didn't do anything wrong! He was on--"

Tezuka quickly clapped a hand over his brother's mouth before Syusuke could say any more. He shot his brother a glare and Syusuke obediently deflated, "I'm sorry, buchou." Tezuka said, "I was out of line."

"How is your arm?" Yamato-buchou asked, with eyes hidden behind his glasses, it was hard to tell if he asked out of concern.

"It's numb, but I think it will be all right."

"Good." Yamato smiled and something in Tezuka's chest snapped, mostly out of relief, "Because of disorderly conduct, I'm ordering everyone to run a hundred laps. Including me, I don't get enough exercise." With that he headed to the track, "...If you don't get a move on, it'll be sundown by the time you finish."

Syusuke only glared at their captain's back, "But you're injured, niisan, you shouldn't have to."

"Yamato-buchou's running with us." Tezuka assured him, "Now, come on. Or else it will really be sundown."