BLANK PAGES

Notes: Okay, I got relaly flushed down this time lol and so I decided to make a longer story. This is only well, you can consider this "chappie" as a prologue, but not entirely. It's short I know, but I guarantee the later chapters won't be as short and wordy. There will be more dialogues, I promise.

Chapter 1 -- A Pile Of Paper

The clock on the wall ticked, the seconds arrowhead easing clockwise mechanically. The house sounded like a silent sleeping wardroom, too quiet, yet too thoughtful at the same time.

Fuji Syusuke stretched his slender arms out, reaching up high for the sky as if it's the last thing he'll ever see. A smile steadied itself on his pale face as he opened the window, letting in a gust of wind that tickled his hair and attacked his cheeks. The wind zoomed past and violated his bedroom, seizing the pile of paper laid on the desk as a couple sheets fluttered around. Fuji closed the window and scrambled about picking them up. Gentle hands perfected the pile once again and lingering eyes rolled squinted in signs of examining aspects.

The sheets had been there since the beginning of the month. Fuji wasn't sure why. He had bought three packs of loose-leaf from the store and unwrapped them all, placing them neatly into one pile on his desk. After that, all he could remember was staring at the pile day on. He didn't know what he had intended to do, yet he didn't touch the papers at all either. Weeks passed before he finally realized that the pile was still left blank.

He sat down on his chair, his hands rested upon his laps. There was so much to tell, so much to say, so much to write. Had he wanted to jot down some words right now, he wouldn't know where to start.

It probably wasn't so complicated. Fuji was just making it seem that way. On the contrary, the alternate point of view may be a little more difficult to comprehend. One side of him had mutated an exact thought, one idea and one idea only; however, the other side of him consisted of a mixture of thought, all kinky and knotted, unwilling to part, unwilling to let down and give up.

Fuji looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyelids shut. Yes, he could still remember. Those words, the voice clearly expressive in his mind.

I'm coming back, buchou.

What was it that annoyed Fuji so much? Echizen was only a little boy, who could get mad at him? And he was returning. He was coming back from America. After 7 long years, Echizen was finally coming back, just as he had promised. Joy was supposed to fill Fuji's heart. But it didn't.

The sensation still lured, haunting Fuji day in and day out. He couldn't help but squint at the memory of his selfishness, of his cruelty. Yes, it was in fact, very painful, torturing to the very end. And he not only hurt Echizen, he hurt everyone else as well, specifically one man. Specifically Tezuka.

He bent his head low. Why did he even bother about that at this time? It was the past, and this is the present. Things are different, aren't they?

The cloud hovered high, tangling around each other, remotely leaving the crowd. A blue sky watched the world and the movement of every soul, going about their daily lives. Red, orange, green, yellow, and brown: the colors of autumn and the themes of shedding trees. In daylight, the sun would shine its brightest and at night, the moon would behold the throne. And then the trees would turn gray, the wind like white ghosts, the ground like black smears of one plain shadow, and the air cold and frosty like a lion's cave.

The pile rested in front of him. A utensil laid flat on its side next to the desk lamp.

At last, Fuji picked up his pencil and began writing on the blank pages.

Author's Notes: Okay, if you had the guts to get through this chapter, please review! I 'd like to know if there's anyone who's going to read this story or else I might not continue it lol P So please comment! As I had said, the later chapters will not be as short and narrative XD