Disclaimer: All the characters mentioned belong to Konomi Takeshi-sensei.
Note: This is sort of a revisit and sequel to two short songfics I wrote a decade ago. I've weaved in some background details into this one so that it can stand on its own, but if you absolutely have to know the details and would brave reading my cringeworthy writings of the past to find out, look for the same title on my LJ or AO3 (because FFnet won't allow links) and read at your own heart's risk.
This part was also inspired by a song - 徐佳瑩 LaLa【失落沙洲】(link also available on my post on LJ/AO3)
Apart from being inspired by this beautiful song, I also wrote this because I needed to reassure myself that I can write non-smutty things. =/ So here's Fuji being emo. Enjoy!
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Soul's Harbour
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The door swung open with a familiar jingle of the bell. It was past their opening hours, and he was sure that he had put the 'Closed' sign on the door, but had left the door unlocked. He hurriedly deposited the dishes he had in his hands into the dishwasher and peeked out of the kitchen.
"Sorry, we're clo-"
"It's me, Syuusuke. Sorry I'm late," the lanky man muttered, plonking ungracefully on to one of the many wooden chairs.
He spared a glance at the figure slumped over in a chair in the middle of the dimly lit cafe, silver bangs casting a shadow to hide the usually sparkling sapphire eyes of the other. The empty tables and chairs surrounding him added on to the air of loneliness and dejection enveloping him, painting the perfect portrait of a heartbreak.
Wordlessly, Fuji prepared a pot of tea with apricot, apples and marigold, a blend that isn't on the menu but is his personal favourite.
"On the house," he said with a soft smile, quietly placing the glass teapot and an empty teacup in the middle of the table, then taking the seat opposite of the other. He managed to get a small smile out of the other.
"This is my cafe too, dork."
"Ah, please forgive me. I tend to get forgetful when business is brisk."
"Sorry. I know I said I'd come in by 2," the other man mumbled sheepishly, finally lifting his head to look at Fuji.
Fuji chuckled lightly as he reached over to pour the other a cup of tea, "Don't worry about it, we've had busier days."
"She just wouldn't stop crying. And to think she was the one dumping me! For a 46-year-old Michael Tomioka wannabe who bought her a Cartier necklace. What. The. Fuck."
"And you couldn't just leave her alone. Could've been crocodile tears, you know. You're too kind, Kojirou."
Saeki took a sip from the glass tea cup, and steeped in silence for a few minutes, then gulped the rest of the tea down, letting out a sigh.
"I think I've had enough of dating girls. They cry too much and want to breakup for the stupidest reasons."
Fuji almost felt sorry for his best friend. Saeki was hardworking, kind and attentive, not to mention incredibly good-looking, but he simply had the worst luck with women. His first girlfriend in high school had cheated on him with two other boys, the next one had asked him out because her friends dared her to. He couldn't remember the names nor the faces of the few who had broken up with Saeki because he was "too gentlemanly", or "too handsome", but the girlfriend he had two years ago before this materialistic Cartier girl came along had ended their relationship because she got jealous of Fuji.
"Are you considering celibacy?" Fuji asked with a teasing smile.
"Syuusuke. Would you take a chance on me?" Saeki asked instead, his voice soft but firm.
Fuji froze under the other man's open and earnest gaze. It wasn't the first time Saeki had asked him something like that. Saeki used to joke that Fuji would make the best wife because he was gentle and understanding, and they knew each other well and never fought, but ever since his previous girlfriend suggested that their friendship seemed more than platonic, the jokes started to develop into genuine questions and what-ifs.
"You just had a breakup, you're hardly in a state to ask anyone out. Besides, you like women, not men, Kojirou," he answered evenly, gathering his composure and putting on a casual smile.
"I don't know about other men, but I know I like you."
Fuji's eyes were hidden behind his smile as usual, but the telltale signs did not escape Saeki's keen eyes. He could see the faint crease on the honey-haired man's brow, the slight stiffening of his body, and the slender fingers that had unconsciously gripped on to the fabric of the dark blue apron across his lap.
"Kojirou… you know I love you, but-"
"-but as a friend and family. I know, I know. My heart's already broken and you just bulldozed over it. Some kind of buddy you are," Saeki interrupted with a smirk, reaching out to playfully mess up the impeccably silky shoulder-length honey-brown strands.
Fuji swatted away the offending hand and threw Saeki a glare, before a true smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"But seriously, Syuusuke. It's about time you moved on," Saeki said, his voice serious once again, "For real."
"We're talking about your breakup, not mine," Fuji replied with equal solemnity, losing his smile.
"How long has it been? Syuusuke, I can't even remember anymore."
"As I can no longer remember the number of girlfriends you've had, Kojirou."
Fuji never liked to talk about his one and only past relationship, but if there was anyone who could prod Fuji into coming bare about it and brave his silent wrath, it was Saeki. He refilled the empty teacup and pushed it across the table, offering it to Fuji in return. Fuji stared at the cup for a moment, and took a deep breath before taking it, carefully cradling the cup in both hands in his lap.
"...11 years. Too long, I know."
Saeki scoffed, shaking his head lightly. "I know first loves are hard to get over, but 11 years is ridiculous."
Fuji calmly drank from the teacup, choosing not to dignify that comment with a response.
"Is he even aware that you're waiting for him?"
"I'm not."
"Why are you doing this to yourself? If he hasn't come for you in the past 11 years, he's not coming back for you now."
"He doesn't have to," Fuji muttered placidly, eyes fixed on the door.
Finishing his drink and placing the empty glass on the table with a thud of finality, Fuji rose from his seat and untied his apron, draping it on the back of the chair.
"Sorry, do you mind closing up?" he asked in his usual gentle tone, though the seething gleam in his open cerulean eyes left no room for negotiation. Not saying another word, he left the cafe like a sudden passing breeze, leaving the bell on the door jingling in his wake.
.
'
Without realizing where he was headed for, Fuji found himself at the Chikura Harbour, which was a twenty-minute walk away from their cafe. Ever since he moved to Chiba to set up a cafe with Saeki, he often found himself in the embrace of the sea when he felt less than himself. He walked the short distance down to the beach and took off his shoes, letting his toes dig into the sand. It was late in Spring, the climate has gotten considerably warmer, but the chill of the sea breeze still seeped through the sweater he had on to tickle his skin. He slightly regretted leaving his cardigan at the cafe, but sat down in his favourite spot anyway.
Whoever said that everything heals with time was a liar. It has been 11 years, but the dull ache in his chest never once faded. Even now, when he closes his eyes, that handsome stoic face still appears vividly in his mind. The wind-tousled head of cinnamon hair, sharp line of his jaw, thin pursed lips, meticulously polished oval glasses perched on the bridge of his finely chiseled nose, and beneath them, those passionate, expressive amber eyes that never failed to pierce into the depths of his soul.
It was unlike him to run away from anything that stood in his way, but escaping to Chiba was a decision he didn't regret making. It had been a tough decision; to step out of his comfort zone and leave behind his education and budding career as a journalist in favour of running a quaint little cafe in a far corner of Chiba, but Tokyo held too many memories that suffocated him.
He had chosen to cut off all the things that bound them together. He moved away, changed his number, and slipped away from the people who were once his closest friends and teammates. But the blue skies still reminded him of the days they spent training and competing side by side. And when it rained he would remember that one conversation they had that meant so much more than the words they exchanged.
Every sunrise brought back memories of the first time they went away on a weekend hiking trip together as high school students, just the two of them. As they watched the sunrise in comfortable company, he had clumsily dropped a hint that he had feelings for the other. The bespectacled youth had kept his gaze on him for a few seconds longer than he normally would have, and though he hadn't offered a response right then, Fuji knew that the thoughts he had weaved into his words hadn't gone unnoticed.
Every sunset revived the feelings that filled him on their attempt to witness the grand sight of the Diamond Fuji. They had managed to get a clear view of the shining sun sinking beyond the apex of Mt. Fuji, but even the beauty of that couldn't rival the mesmerizing myriad of emotions he saw in those stunning amber eyes as the usually straight-faced young man answered to his affections with a smile so gentle, he almost forgot to breathe.
He knew at that moment, that he would be willing to give anything to make that smile blossom on the other's face. Eventually he did, giving away his heart and soul when the other man had left to pursue greater goals. The breakup hurt, but it didn't matter, because he knew that the man he had fallen in love with was a fighter who thrived on challenge, and as long as he was happy enough to show that smile, it didn't matter even if that smile wasn't for him.
He had let him go, and he wasn't expecting him to come back, but he wasn't expecting it to be so difficult to truly let go either. Fuji closed his eyes and hugged his knees to his chest, desperately holding in the surge of emotions threatening to overflow. At times like this, when his fingers have turned icy and the cold breeze washes over him, he would long for the other's familiar warmth, and be reminded of the last time he saw the man who now dwells in his memories and dreams.
He could still clearly recall the feel of the other man's strong arms around him, holding him for one last time, and the slight tremble of his warm lips when he kissed him goodbye. The other always spoke with actions more than with words, and as everything around them melted into a blur during those few moments, he felt the taller man's unsaid words of apology and pain that they had to part ways, and a silent but deafening declaration that he too had loved and been loved.
.
"You are the most precious… I will always treasure you, Fuji Syusuuke."
'
That had been all Fuji needed to know and all he needed to muster the strength to walk away.
11 years sounded like a long time to get over a breakup, but what Fuji had lost wasn't just a close friend and first love. He had lost the man who had awakened the dormant passion within him, the man who had given him the courage to surpass his limits, the man who had caught him when he fell, the man who had taught him to trust and to love. The man who had shaped his very existence.
"Tezuka… you didn't teach me how to fall out of love," Fuji mumbled to the winds of the night.
A small part of him was glad that Tezuka didn't come back. Tezuka would probably have been disappointed to see him in such a pathetic state; almost 30 and hiding in a quiet corner of Chiba, using his cafe business as an excuse to run away from the sights and sounds that triggered too many memories of them together.
.
'
"...-suke… Syuusuke!"
For a moment, he thought he heard Tezuka's deep, velvety baritone voice calling out to him. His chest tightened and his eyes flew open, his whole body freezing still for a second, before he broke out of his reverie. Tezuka had never called him by his given name. Reluctantly, he turned his head to see Saeki waving to him from the flight of stairs leading up to the harbour. He turned his gaze back to the dark waves washing on to the shore and took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts and emotions that had burst forth back into the void in his chest where they belonged, hidden. Rising to his feet, Fuji dusted himself off and strolled over to where his friend stood, waiting for him.
"I knew I'd find you here. You left your cardigan and your keys at the cafe," Saeki said with a small smile, handing Fuji his belongings.
Even with the lack of adequate lighting, Fuji could see the worry on Saeki's face.
"Kojirou… I'm sorry-"
For leaving abruptly. For making you worry. For not being able to love you in the way you want me to.
"-and thank you."
For worrying about me. For standing by me. For staying the same.
"I hope you have your wallet with you, cuz' you're buying me dinner," Saeki said with a grin, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning on his heels to start the short walk back to where he had parked his car.
Fuji chuckled as he pulled on his cardigan and followed in the other's footsteps.
"Fine. Pizza, right? I'll even buy you beer and ice cream."
Pizza was Saeki's way of nursing a broken heart, while ice cream was Fuji's choice of remedy.
"Oh gee thanks for reminding me. I nearly forgot about it for a moment, you know."
"That soon? That's record breaking."
Saeki glared at Fuji as he fished out his keys and unlocked the car, "Taking 11 years to get over someone is also record breaking in a way."
Fuji slid into the passenger seat and buckled up, then turned his head to throw Saeki a look, "I take my words back. You're buying ice cream."
"I'll buy you as many Shirokuma as you want, just don't put the blame on me if you get fat," Saeki teased, starting the drive home. He didn't need to ask; Fuji always stayed over on pizza night. "On second thought, maybe it isn't so bad that you've not gotten over Tezuka yet. This way I'll always have a heartbroken buddy whenever I go through a breakup."
"Jerk."
Saeki laughed. "You can get us both out of this situation by going out with me, you know."
"And who's going to binge with you on pizza night if we break up?"
"Aww man, have some faith in us, Syuusuke. We're gonna live happily ever after!"
"I bet that's what you had in mind for each and every one of your girlfriends."
"Now you're being mean. I want extra cheese and bacon on my pizza."
Fuji chuckled and gazed out of the window, absently counting the street lamps as they zoomed by. At times, Fuji couldn't help but feel envious of the capacity of Saeki's heart. Despite the number of bad endings he had been through, he was always unreserved and genuine towards his next relationship. He couldn't deny that the possibility of a happily ever after ending wouldn't be out of reach if he dated Saeki. If only he was whole.
"Kojirou," Fuji said softly, tilting his head to glance at his best friend, "If we're both still single and unattached by the time we're 50, I'll take up your offer. If you still want me by then, that is."
Widened sapphire eyes turned to stare at Fuji for a second, before they turned back to the road. A soft smile stretched across Saeki's face, and then melted into a playful pout.
"You're making me wait for you for 21 years? Don't tell me you're intending to mope over Tezuka all that while."
"This has nothing to do with Tezuka," Fuji muttered, which wasn't exactly the truth, but not entirely a lie, "I'm giving you 21 years to find a good wife. The task of procreating a successor to our cafe is on your shoulders, buddy."
"What? And if I don't, I get to date you? At 50 years old? I don't wanna date an old dude!"
"Mind you, you're older than I am," Fuji argued, before breaking down into soft laughter as he tried to imagine them dating 20-something years later. Where do people in their fifties go to on dates anyway?
He wasn't sure if 21 years would be long enough for him to step out of Tezuka's shadow, the past 11 years had done nothing for him after all, but he was betting his chances on Saeki settling down by then. He could come to terms with himself spending the rest of his life in bitter loneliness, feelings unrequited, but he genuinely wished for Saeki's happiness, which he knew was not with him.
There were many things that Saeki wished and deserved to have but he couldn't give. But should the day that Saeki loses hope in finding true love ever come, he would be there to offer whatever happiness he could find in him. It may not be the perfect ending, but if two broken souls could find solace in each other, it would be a happy ending in its own right.
Saeki pulled into a parking slot in front of a convenience store so that they could stop to get ice cream and beer. As Fuji stepped out of the car, he looked up at the starry sky and made a silent wish that that day would never come.
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end.
'
Michael Tomioka - A half-Japanese half-American actor/celebrity based in Japan. Apart from his work, he's also famous for his extravagant and amorous lifestyle, and is said to have a harem of 12 girlfriends which he refers to as "Michael Japan".
Diamond Fuji - The name given to the view of the setting sun meeting the summit of Mt. Fuji, a rare sight that only occurs about twice a year around the winter solstice in December.
Shirokuma - A type of frozen dessert that consists of shaved ice flavoured with condensed milk, topped with fruits and azuki red beans, commonly available in convenience stores/supermarkets in Japan. The word "shirokuma" also refers to white bear/polar bear.
Thanks for reading/reviewing! There'll be a happy ending, I promise!