Disclaimer: I take credit only for the plot. The rest is borrowed, stolen and surely not one of my creations.

'Cause you don't see me like I wish you would.

He called many times. In the small time span of two weeks his phone had blinked and made that annoying ringtone play more times that he could count. He was slowly getting tired and it was showing in his attitude towards the people around him.

But he failed to do anything about it until now. Sometimes he wondered why he even put up with the other.

Love?

Surely no; love was out of the question, for he had never believed in something so vague and indescribable as love and feeling and love. You could never say for sure that the feeling deep inside you was really that feeling.

And yet here he was, wet from the rain, cold to the bone and catching his breath after the long run to Fuji's place. What made him come to this damned welcoming apartment in this hour of the night, not to mention the bloody rain, Ryoma couldn't tell - not like he wanted to know either. It was a mere moment of madness and frustration and sexual need and loneliness – yes he was lonely and not afraid to admit it anymore – and Fuji was technically his...

What was Fuji to him anyways?

Lover, sex friend, one night stand or this twisted form of boyfriend that wasn't quite a boyfriend?

Hell if Ryoma knew.

Still, he was here at, goddamn it, three in the morning and soaking wet and waiting for that smiling bastard to finally wake up and let him in. He even escaped from that madhouse he calls the training camp for Fuji and this was what he got? Shouldn't have bothered then.

"Ryoma," for once he wasn't Ryo-chan, "I know we had a fight but this wasn't what I meant when I said that I would like to meet you." Fuji is sleepy and not smiling for once. But he still let's the nineteen-year-old in and fails to stoop a yawn.

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing
Just prayin' to a god that I don't believe in

"So, what is this?" Fuji finally got around to asking after half an hour.

Ryoma is now in Fuji's clothes - they are all baggy and slightly too big for him still, but oh so warm and smell like Fuji - semi dry and drinking hot and steaming tea. He allows his eyes to wander around the apartment and take in the few changes that had happened during the two weeks of not being here.

He turns the cup around in his hands and then mumbled under his breath. "I don't know. It just happened." He speaks quietly, barely moving his lips. So different from the way he usually carried himself.

"I didn't think that you would actually be this… reckless or childish, I can't tell anymore." Fuji sighs. He stays quiet for a while and then shakes his head a little. Fuji wasn't a morning person either. "So?"

"I wanted to talk. I think. I don't know, I just acted on impulse and here I am." Ryoma huffed. He truly didn't know why he had come here; it was like his body moved before his brain had caught up.

Fuji stayed quiet, his sleepy eyes boring into Ryoma's head. Even when he had opened them the younger one felt like his lover, or boyfriend, or whatever the hell Fuji was to him, could see through him, could see inside his head and could easily see everything that he wanted to hide. It was frightening and exciting at the same time. It was this twisted feeling that sometimes made Ryoma fear himself.

"Honestly…" Fuji sighed and got up, "Go and sleep for now, we'll talk about this on the morning." He switched off the lights and paused for a moment, "You can sleep with me if you want to, I don't care."

Ryoma whined to himself, "But what about…?"

"Tomorrow. It's too late for this now." Fuji sounded tired and impatient. He glanced at the raven –haired boy and rubbed his eyes a little. "How troublesome." He muttered under his breath, walked back to Ryoma and took the cup out of the teen's fingers, "Let's go."

"But…" Ryoma tried to talk back but then stopped. He was the one that was bothering Fuji now, running here at this hour of the night and then asking for a talk. The boy bit his bottom lip and then got up too, "Un."

What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you,
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok

When Ryoma woke up Fuji was nowhere to be found.

The apartment was empty, no sign of Fuji. Only a small note on the small table next to the bed told of Fuji's reasons to disappear – work. It was ten in the morning, the sun was already drying out any trace of yesterday's rain, and it was quiet.

The nineteen year old clutched the sheets and bit his bottom lip. Tomorrow, he had said.

Ryoma got out of the bed and located his own clothes, still slightly damp and uncomfortably cold against his warm skin. But this was all he had. He left a message in his own messy handwriting, making the training camp as a usable excuse for leaving, and stuck the note on the refrigerator. Surely, Fuji should notice it.

He left the spare key in Fuji's mailbox, greeted the elderly neighbor on his way out and made a face when the bright sun shone on him. It was a nice morning, really, but then why did he feel so empty and breakable?

"Shit."

They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding

Ryoma refused to take further part in the training camp. Yes, his coach and the trainers were furious and let down - such a young man with a bright future, can't believe he can be so irresponsible - but what could he do? Pretend that he's interested in games played against those that can't even hold back on their own against his attacks?

Tennis had been fun, but not anymore. Those who had been worthy as opponents had long since reached heights that were out of Ryoma's reach. Tennis was no longer fun, or was it his determination that was lacking?

His phone rang the second that Ryoma was out of the territory of the camp, the well known melody set for Fuji reached the teen's ears. This time he picked it up, no use running away now.

"Fuji." He couldn't muster up the courage to sound like the usual Ryoma.

Silence greeted him, then a sigh. "Where are you?" His partner, or whatever Fuji was to him, sounded so tired. But he should still be working. "I'll pick you up and then we'll talk."

"Sure." Ryoma said and looked around, "I'm still at my training camp. But I can walk elsewhere." He fiddled with the zipper of his shoulder bag; suddenly talking to Fuji was a little scary. Fuji was now scary.

"Stay there. It will be easier to find you like that." Fuji hung up and that was the end of the talk.

Ryoma pocketed his phone and looked up at the sky. What had happened? Did that argument really was the cause of all of this, or was it his own realization that Fuji felt so much for him, than he felt towards Fuji? He felt like he was hurting the man with his half-hearted attempts at this twisted relationship that they had. So then, why does it feel so wrong?

Fuji probably already knew. He always knows. It's the way he works.

But not Ryoma. Ryoma is just a bundle of expectations and naive thinking and confusion. He's tired and stressed and lost all of his will to continue. Tennis no longer seems worth it, he's left here alone, the things that he had grown used to are starting to crumble around him. Is it his fault?

He waited for roughly fifteen minutes.

Fuji picked him up with his black BMW, the labor of the long evenings and nights spent on projects that everyone else refused to do. He didn't talk much, just threw Ryoma's bag into the back seat and then motioned for the boy to get in.

Where they were going, Ryoma didn't know.

Oh you got his heart and my heart and none of the pain
You took your suitcase, I took the blame

"I'm sorry." Ryoma quietly muttered to himself.

They have been riding for a while now, the black car stopping only for the traffic lights and pedestrians that crossed the road. The soft hum of some popular song came from the radio, but the two males stayed quiet. It was hard to tell what Fuji felt right now – his face was void of emotions. Or more like, he looked like he didn't care.

The older male sighed. He stopped at an intersection and turned right. "You don't even know what you're apologizing for, do you? You're still as oblivious as when you were twelve." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he said this.

Ryoma bit his bottom lip again, he refused to lift up his eyes and look at Fuji. He was embarrassed and ashamed and scared, so very, very scared. "I don't even know what we are, that's why I'm apologizing."

"Weren't we dating? Oh right, didn't you say so – I don't even know what we are, much less what I feel for you. I was the only one that assumed that we're dating, sorry." The smile from Fuji's face was completely gone now.

He stopped at a rest stop and shut off the engine. "All you do is lead people on and then throw them away. How did we even manage to hold on this long?" Fuji leaned back into the seat and covered his eyes with his hand. "Honestly."

"Because, my feelings are lacking!" Ryoma spoke louder than needed, hands balled in fists over his thighs. His eyes were shadowed, hidden from view. "All this time, I've been having these half-assed feelings while you… And all this time I keep hurting you, so-! I'm lacking something important that you long for." He wanted to scream out, yell at Fuji for being so patient and not forcing him to say this sooner.

But he couldn't. Not now.

"I don't want to chain you down anymore. And yet I want to keep you by my side." The teen then said, after the silence had grown more than it needed to. He couldn't look at the man next to him, not now, when he was so close to crying out. "I don't deserve this. I never did."

"Ryoma." He was Ryoma again, hah. No more of the Ryo-chan, it was clear already. "Have you any idea what you are saying? Do you think I didn't know? You just… Forget it." Fuji composed himself before speaking again, "You're not lacking, you're just dense."

Cos I got time while she got freedom
Cos when a heart breaks no it don't break even

Fuji hadn't contacted him ever since and it had been five days, or maybe six, since that.

Ryoma couldn't muster up the need to care or try and reach the male himself. He knew that it was either Tezuka or Atobe or even Saeki that might tell him where to find the brown-haired man, but he knew it was pointless. Fuji deserved better, he deserved nothing and it was how it should be.

He no longer had to wonder about what Fuji was to him. Now he was simply a part of the past, a boyfriend that wasn't quite a boyfriend, a lover that wasn't quite that and a partner that was actually more than that. It was all a ghost of the past and what he came to understand after all of that had been done didn't matter now.

In fact, it never had mattered.

"Come on kid; put your mind into it. This is just pathetic." His old man sighed for the tenth time during the game. His son was losing himself and there was nothing he could do.

Ryoma glared at the ball – it always came down to tennis, didn't it? He threw it up and then hit it towards his father, maybe the ball will finally get though? It didn't. It never did - he should have stopped hoping a long time ago, when he could still scoff it off as just a fluke.

In the end he lost, miserably, and was left to stare at the empty court all alone.

The message his father tried to get across was still misunderstood, but Ryoma didn't care. He was still not quite there and the people around him knew it. It was obvious that the teen wasn't aware of his own feelings, always thinking about things that never really mattered. Maybe that's why he never really thought about Fuji's feelings and just how much he was hurting him.

Ryoma placed his racket on the veranda and sighed. This felt like middle school all over again. Only this time it wasn't the start of a relationship he had to think about, it was the end. Still, the rollercoaster of feelings and thoughts that he was now experiencing were strangely similar.

He didn't know what would be the right thing to do - just like when he was fourteen. For Fuji it would be ending this twisted thing that they had kept going for so long. For him… It never really mattered what was the best for him, did it? After all, he was just a painfully dense kid in the eyes of others.

"Ryoma honey, there's someone here to see you." His mother walked out on the veranda and smiled down on her son, "I told him to come around, since you're here already." She set down the two glasses of juice and then turned to leave, "Try and talk it over with him dear. It's always better to let it out than keep it bottled up inside."

Words of a person that has gone through a lot, Ryoma thought to himself. And true, his mother's life hasn't been a walk though a rose garden. She's had her hard times. But was it really ok, to go on like this, even if his mother told him to talk it out? Fuji probably came to say his goodbyes anyway.

Ryoma heard the sound of shoes against the soil and then, not long after that Fuji's familiar voice reached his ears, "Just so you know, I'm not here to break up with you."

One still in love while the other ones leaving
Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven

"Do you know why I actually stayed with you for five years, even when I knew that you don't see me the same way I see you?" Fuji was sitting on the veranda, the glass of juice in his hands.

The nineteen year old had leaned against one of the wooden columns. He was staring at the empty court, staying quiet all this time. All of the things he had wanted to say, let out to be heard and understood where now lost somewhere in the silence of his mind. It was an unnatural feeling, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The brown-haired man shook his head a little and drank a bit from the glass. "Because I also knew that you like me that way. Only you, yourself, didn't see it. That's why we have all told you that you're dense."

"Then what were we? Lovers? Or sex fiends?" Ryoma knew what Fuji was trying to say, but it was all too late now. He had hurt he man enough, he deserved better, surely. "Even if I've finally realized my feelings to some extent, it doesn't mean that things will just go back to normal. I'm still lacking and you still deserve better."

It was the right choice.

"Ryoma… You're an idiot." Fuji sounded exasperated. He rarely felt that way, since most of the time people just went along with what he was saying and understood immediately. But not Ryoma, no, not him. "We were dating, properly. We still are."

Ryoma turned his head away from Fuji – he was feeling such shame for reasons unknown, it was painful just seeing the other even from the corner of his eye. "Bastard." He could only muster up weak insults, nothing else.

"Cute." Fuji's laugh flew around the backyard, reminding Ryoma just why he had enjoyed those moments that Fuji was genuinely happy. "Really, all this just because you finally realized that you like me. That fight was meaningless, as well as all of this." His left hand covered Ryoma's right one and squeezed a bit.

"I love you, Ryo-chan."

So the Ryo-chan was back now? Wonderful.

Ryoma said nothing, he just looked away from Fuji and tried to ignore the burning in his cheeks – it was too embarrassing to admit that he was blushing because of a simple 'I love you'. They still weren't real boyfriends, in Ryoma's mind, only this time he wasn't bothered by it.

A/N: I tried to do something different again. The story itself will probably feel unfinished, but somehow… it's ok like this. I don't actually want to finish it, I think.

As a small mention – I had a very hard time with choosing the title to this. I wonder why? In the end, I chose a line from Robyn's song 'Be mine'. It's a good song; I recommend you listen to it.