Chasm

[AU, AtobexFuji, with heavy dose of Tezuka] The wonders of circular logic.

A/N: I wanted to try something new, and since AtoFuji won on my poll, I figured I might as well try something new. Labeled AU, because I'm not really sure. And I think this is a nice opportunity to practice my oneshots...and even with that, I'm pretty happy with how this turned out.

"Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if it had been you."

Atobe Keigo leaned idly against the door frame. In his right hand, he held a heavy briefcase, a very real reminder of the world they lived in. In his left hand, he held a rose, a single long-stemmed white rose, still freshly sprinkled with dew, as a fantastical offering that this white room afforded him.

Fuji Syusuke looked at him, cerulean eyes unseeing. "Why is it not you?"

Atobe shrugged one shoulder, he answered the two questions steadfastly everyday, never wavering in his answer. This day was no different from any other. "Because I didn't love you enough, and you didn't love me at all."

"But you did love me." Fuji walked ten carefully measured steps and plucked the rose from Atobe's hand.

"But not enough." Atobe repeated quietly, as he set down his briefcase and slipped off his shoes.

The slighter man gave him a rather patronizing look, "I know. I don't need you tell me twice."

"Of course you don't."

"You're making fun of me."

Atobe shrugged, "Maybe I am."

"You're mean."

To that, Atobe offered a third shrug as he slid down against the wall, aside from that, he was silent. Obviously deciphering that to be some sort of an invitation, he hopped over and slid down against the wall just as Atobe had done. "You're mean." He repeated, fingers reaching out to grab at Atobe's neatly pressed shirt.

"Why did you not love me enough?"

Atobe was silent.

"Atobe."

He forced back a sigh. This too, was another exchange he knew very well, an exchange he was utterly tired of. "Because he loved you more than I did. All right? I have never beaten him, and I never will beat him...especially when it comes to you."

Fuji leaned against him, warm and needy like a little boy who didn't know any better, "I've never loved you."

The corners of Atobe's mouth twisted itself into an ironic smirk of sorts, "Yes, maybe that too."

"Why did I never love you?"

"Because you never cared enough to try." Atobe said, his mood souring almost permanently, "And you had no reason to, because he was there."

Fuji sighed.

"But he's not here now." He pointed out.

"But you wish he was here." Atobe shot back, although his tone wasn't as sharp as he wished it could be. "And so I can't. I'd do a lot of things, Fuji, but I draw the line here."

Rubbing his forehead idly against Atobe's shoulder, Fuji sighed again, "He--"

"--is not me." Atobe interjected, although all fight had gone out of his voice. "I refuse to be him, and everything you wanted him to be."

"What if I wanted him to be everything you were?"

Atobe said nothing.

Fuji rubbed at his shoulder again, "Answer me."

"No."

"But--"

"I've answered you, Fuji, the answer is no."

Momentarily at a loss, Fuji settled his head back on Atobe's shoulder again. "You're mean."

Atobe laughed, "I doubt I'll ever be anything else." But in spite of himself, the laugh tasted bitter on the tip of his tongue, like acid melting, as if it didn't matter.

And it didn't.

"I wish I would have loved you." Fuji tapped the white rose against his lips.

Atobe wished he didn't wish that he could echo that wish. So he said nothing.

Fuji smiled at him, a cold distant smile, and white cold fingers settled hesitantly on his arm. Atobe winced, although he doubted that Fuji noticed.

Suddenly, the door cracked open, and a nurse with neatly bundled hair and a spotless white uniform peeked her head in. She was smiling so wide that it was unnatural. But Atobe was also unnaturally relieved to see her. He stood up abruptly, and Fuji's head knocked rudely against the wall.

"You're leaving already?"

Atobe answered without looking, "Yes."

"Will you come see me tomorrow?"

"Of course."

Fuji smiled, for the first time, it was a clear smile, the same smile Atobe knew he used to smile for someone else. "...Aah, then I'll see you tomorrow."