A Tear From Eyes Of Blue

~
A sapphire gaze reflect oblivion,
Like a steady slave accepting life's dominion,
Cold masks of ice shield what was true,
They're hiding a tear from eyes of blue.
~

Copper eyes grew wide, intently focused in his blue ones yet seeming as if he wasn't really there. No words were spoken from those usually loud lips, their supposedly arrogant confines shut out of words as they presented a look of utter shock and disbelief. The room suddenly seemed awfully suffocating with its silence, both from himself and his companion, the heaviness ringing in his ear as if it were a spell meant to drive him crazy.

He said it. He said the very phrase that would change his life, the simple life he had led ever since he had come into this world alone. It was the phrase that had been repeated over and over in his mind, spoken over and over in his dreams, yet the very phrase he dreaded to say out loud in fear that his supposedly fixed life would be taken to an unfamiliar turn.

I like you.

But he did. He did say it, and throughout the mystifying silence he could still hear himself say it, telling the baffled redhead in front of him, an obvious look of surprise evident in those finely chiseled features. Expressive eyes of warm brown that would always look at him in hatred now looked as if he had seen him for the first time, a complete stranger to him amidst the confusion the words had just given him. Those eyes spoke all the questions left unsaid, the disbelief. They begged him to explain.

A weary sigh escaped dry lips, his eyes moving away from those innocent ones that were Sakuragi's, not being able to bear the pain that had somehow found its way inside his chest. It ate him alive, this pain, he could feel it devour his whole being, making him feel dirty and perverse. He felt unclean, wanting him this much, falling into this pathetic puddle of emotions that he wasn't even used to feeling. Emotions so alien to him. A side alien as well to the puzzled redhead there in front of him.

Those eyes. The way he could still feel his gaze regardless whether he was looking or not made his hands tremble. They begged him to speak, to clear the mess that was already spread out. Not that he thought his words could help, but nevertheless, he did. "I don't know why. I know you hate me, hell, I thought I hated you too, but..."

He stopped, not knowing what else to say. He never really was good with words, not even with facial expressions. Did he know how much he was hurting? Can he see how much pain and torment ran around inside his mind and heart just because he lacked the proper words to comfort him, to comfort himself? Will he realize that there never really was an explanation at all, that the feeling just came out of nowhere, when he thought that he had finally locked himself from the world enough to keep him safe?

Something burned inside his eyes. It took him a while to realize that the fire that started underneath his steady gaze, that the blur that had came about that blocked clear vision, were tears that threatened to fall down pallid cheeks.

It took all his effort not to make his voice crack. "I'm not expecting anything though," he said, part of him saying that it was true, yet a part of him said that it was not. He was expecting a punch maybe, or a diabolical laugh that would insult him, or a booming voice that would show endless anger and hatred towards him before he would be pushed to the ground. That's what the redhead would do usually, wasn't it?

But another part of him lay silent and hoping, hoping that maybe the red-haired angel in front of him was not that insensitive to hurt him in such a vulnerable state. Not that it was impossible, more than likely, he would've laughed his head out at him by now if he even planned to do so. But only a deafening silence answered him, an unsteady gaze boring itself onto him like a curse, penetrating through his broken shield easily enough to hurt.

He didn't look up, he didn't want to meet those eyes. He wouldn't be able to bear the disgust and hatred that would surely meet him. When he decided to tell him about the strange feelings he's been having, he didn't expect the redhead to welcome him in open arms. In fact, if that were to happen, he would've thought that it was a dream, a nightmare meant to mock him. And sure enough, none of that came about.

Only this. This nerve-wrecking silence that threatened to render him deaf if he wouldn't get away.

So he did. He turned his back, his feet feeling like lead yet somehow, he was able to walk out the doors of the locker room, away from him, and away from the feelings that had been haunting him for so long.

* * * * *

"Hey, Sakuragi! Have you seen Rukawa?"

The books that were held between two hands threatened to fall at the mention of that name. Memories of last night crept inside his mind like a snake about to devour its prey, making him remember his words, the way he looked, the way his eyes looked at him with an unfamiliar emptiness that made him feel as if a cold knife was stabbed on his chest. He couldn't exactly decipher what the look was, but somehow, it had caused a kind of heaviness inside of him to see such soulless expression inside the deep oblivion that was the fox's blue eyes.

Those eyes. So beautiful and yet so distant, gave him a glimpse of what they truly kept from everyone else that night. More than that even. The usually cold young man just told him how he felt. To even hear the word 'feelings' associated with that boy's name was totally uncharacteristic that he didn't know what else to say.

The form of Ryota Miyagi was clearly oblivious to the redhead's thoughts, for by the time he had reached him, he continued to speak. "I heard he missed three classes already, do you think he's not coming to school at all?"

Sakuragi snapped out of his thoughts to regard the older student. Not knowing what else to say, he resorted to replying the way he ought to. "You're asking ME? Why would I care about that dumb fox anyway?"

Miyagi frowned, but not at all surprised with the response he got. "Come on, you idiot, weren't you two the last ones to leave from yesterday's practice? Was he ill?" he asked, leaning over to the redhead to give him a questioning glare.

Sakuragi was speechless. What should he tell him? He can't possibly tell him what happened. But just before Miyagi could repeat the question to him with a spark of impatience, a voice, probably that of a first year's, caught their attention.

"Rukawa-san!"

Both heads turned to the direction from which the voice came from. And sure enough, the tall form of Rukawa was easy to catch. He carried his usual poise and appearance that would make girls around him drool over well enough. But his walk was somehow tired and weary, he almost seemed as if he wasn't able to sleep at all. Knowing Rukawa, that was a very strange thought, but the redness in his eyes and the dark lines underneath were a clear sign that he was lacking sleep.

He didn't know if it's a trick of the light, but Sakuragi could've sworn that the redness in those eyes were not caused by sleeplessness alone.

"Woow! What's with you, have you been crying?"

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who noticed. But on Miyagi's part, the sophomore must've meant it as a joke. Surely, Rukawa of all people was the least likely to cry. Sakuragi would've found a crying clown far more common than a crying Rukawa.

Probably feeling his gaze on him, Rukawa's eyes shifted from Miyagi's to him. Brown eyes met with dead blue ones, the latter looking through the other as if he was something invisible. Chiseled features were paler than usual, Rukawa's hands limp in his sides, eyes tired and weary, lips dry and silent. He didn't even regard his senior when the other just kept on talking.

"Akagi's going to be pissed off when he finds out you're late," Miyagi said, placing a hand on one of the taller boy's shoulder, talking away in that noisy corridor.

But none of his companions heard him, eyes in the midst of looking away or staying where they were. But Sakuragi was the first to shift his eyes elsewhere, bidding Miyagi a small goodbye, his next class an excuse to leave.

Rukawa watched the redhead leave in a hidden frenzy. He had fooled Miyagi with his casual mask, but not him. Rukawa can clearly see through that excuse, the redhead simply didn't want to be in his presence. The look Sakuragi had given him was still unreadable, but surely it wasn't bordering on anything that would make it look as if he was showing the same signs of affection towards the other boy. The closest interpretation he could give it was uneasiness, discomfort.

He expected this though. If not for hate, he expected Sakuragi to avoid him. He knew this all along. But still...

Why did it hurt?

* * * * *

The basketball gym was eerily quiet that day, the familiar, obnoxious voice of a certain redhead's insults towards a certain raven-haired boy obviously absent.

Ayako didn't feel right. The team seemed...dead without those bickering voices. Not even Sakuragi's arrogant 'tensai' laughter rang annoyingly in their ears anymore. The young manageress couldn't imagine how strange it now felt not to hear it in a span of just a day. But what caught her the most was that Sakuragi and Rukawa were, or so it seems, avoiding each other. Neither of them spoke, both drowned in deep concentration only for basketball. Of course, that's supposedly a good thing, but Ayako still felt a cold dread build up inside her.

Not knowing what else to do, slender fingers came up to lightly tap the shoulder of the vice captain beside her. Kogure turned around to regard her, eyebrows raised in question.

"Anou, sempai? Is it me or does it seem like something's wrong here?" she asked hesitantly, looking up to her senior as he as well eyed the team critically.

"What? You mean Sakuragi and Rukawa?" he asked, an uneasy smile in his gentle face. Seeing Ayako nod, he paused, then shrugged. "Maybe they're in a weird mood today," he said good-naturedly, an amused grin on his face. "Don't worry, they'll snap out of it soon enough."

Ayako shifted her eyes from Kogure to the other two, a worried look on her face. "I hope so, sempai," she muttered, her eyes following Rukawa's form as the boy executed a perfect three-pointer.

* * * * *

But things never did get better. Day in and day out, the haunting silence inside the Shohoku basketball gym was turning from quiet to deafening to deathly suffocating. The atmosphere that once was a vibrant air of proud assaults of laughter from a self-proclaimed tensai and exasperated sighs from a weary super rookie was never again heard for weeks.

Sakuragi sighed, the ball held in hand. Just the other day, Mitsui had approached him, asking why he had began to be so quiet. The older player had said things about the gym being too quiet without his irritating laughter and bursts of air, and that Kogure was getting worried. All said most probably as a tease, but he could see the concern in his senior's eyes despite the grin.

He had told Mitsui that he was fine and nothing was wrong. It's true, there wasn't. Nothing physical anyway.

Though for some reason, he never had the ease to be like that anymore. Because really, most of his arrogance have emerged because of his attempts to be better than Rukawa. Sure, he had been like that ever since he could remember, but Rukawa's insults and opposition had been his fuel. Since he had decided to ignore him, and since the other didn't seem as if he's planning to insult him like he's supposed to, he decided that there was no reason to do as he used to anymore. From time to time, he'll still do it, so it wouldn't seem like he's sick or something, only enough to convince the team. He was still the same. Only now, he had nothing to do with Rukawa anymore. He completely turned his back, and as for the other, he seem to be doing the same.

But isn't that what he wanted? Then why was it starting to bother him? Why did he feel...empty? Incomplete? Unsatisfied?

Another sigh, his thoughts only brought back to the present by a very familiar voice behind him.

"Sakuragi-kun?"

Haruko Akagi.

Sakuragi waited for that butterfly feeling inside to play up again. He waited for his mind to flutter in angel wings to glorious heights by the sound of that voice calling his name, waited for himself to burst into that familiar state of foolishness the way one would when confronted with the very person they're supposed to have a crush on.

But nothing came, and the only expression that came about him was confusion. What was wrong with him? Was he really feeling that low as to not acknowledge Haruko, the supposedly love of his life, with the proper welcome she deserved?

"Sakuragi-kun?" Haruko asked again as she made her way towards the red-haired player, a small, familiar book in hand. She smiled at him when their eyes met, her ever so sweet smile that would always capture the redhead's attention every time she had it. But this time, though oblivious to the difference, all Haruko received was a good-natured smile as well instead of a stupid, empty-minded grin. "A friend asked me to hand this over to you, he said that he borrowed it from you the other day and he wants to thank you for it," she said, giving the algebra book back to Sakuragi.

Sakuragi took it with nothing but a nod, wordlessly staring at the characters written on the book.

"Are you going home now? I can walk with you if you want me to," offered Haruko kindly, her smile never leaving her features.

"Thank you, but I think I'll practice some more."

What was that? Him refusing HER? Never in his whole life had he imagined such a scenery. Normally, he would've gladly taken that offer even if he was to go home at midnight, but now...

Haruko frowned. "Oniichan told me that you've been acting strange lately," she said, eyes turning worried. "Is something wrong?"

Sakuragi's eyes were blank. "It seems..." he started, pausing and not knowing what to say. What was he supposed to say? Confused eyes looked up from the book to the beautiful face that was Haruko's, yet without the kind of blind admiration he used to have for the girl. She was still somebody special, but probably the same level like that of Youhei's. She was special. She was a friend.

"It seems what, Sakuragi-kun?" asked Haruko, hesitant and worried, eyebrows rising in question as a small smile graced her cherry-colored lips.

Sakuragi stared, remembering the times he'd fancy kissing her, that beautiful face between his hands, her smile enough to brighten his whole day. He once dreamed about holding those small, delicate-looking hands in his, receiving only her undivided attention for himself.

Only to find out that those things did not fit the holes that stained his being.

"It seems...that I've been mistaken," he said with a small smile, his eyes coming up to meet with Haruko's own.

Haruko merely blinked. "What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

Sakuragi shook his head. "Nothing, Haruko-san, I'm okay now. Thanks for coming here," he said, a sincere smile on his face. Then, he did the very thing he wished to have done many months ago, only with a different intention.

He hugged her.

He now did it out of gratitude, gratitude because Haruko had always been there to smile for him, always there to be by his side even if she was oblivious to how he had felt. And now, he did it because wanted to thank her for waking him up from his living dream. She had showed him what she really was to him, a friend he can trust, who will always be by his side even if he now knows she's nothing more than what she already was. Nothing more than a good friend.

"Thank you Haruko-san," he said before pulling away.

But the momentary confusion from Haruko's face turned into yet another smile. "I still don't understand, but I'm glad you're okay," she said. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Sakuragi-kun."

This time, it was Sakuragi's turn to blink. What did she mean?

But Haruko just beamed at him before bidding him a goodbye, making her way out of the gym doors.

I hope you find what you're looking for.

* * * * *

The sound of the hissing showers met his ears when he entered, a warm atmosphere of steam and soap emanating from every corner of the shower room. He was just about to go home from practice when he realized he had left his gym bag back in the said room, so he decided to take a quick shower on his way as well.

Perhaps it's Micchy practicing for lost times again, Sakuragi thought to himself, regarding the locked stall with a small glimpse before scanning the room for his bag. But what met him instead was a very familiar gym bag that wasn't exactly his.

He froze. It was Rukawa's. That means...

His eyes was about to shift back to the locked shower stall, but something else caught his attention. A small, forsaken notebook with a small piece of crumpled paper lay on one of the benches, a blue pen laid a few inches from it. Sakuragi knew it was rude to look into other people's things, but to have something owned by someone as mysterious as Rukawa, one wouldn't be able to help it.

Checking first to see if the other boy was still inside the stall, he picked up the small piece of crumpled paper from where it was. He held it in between his fingers, gingerly fingering it before he decided to open it. Little by little, he could make out the familiar characters, the writing style distinctly Rukawa's. By the time it was fully opened, the words sank in.

It was a poem.

It was just a short one, a four-lined verse written in small, careful strokes across the faded lines of the notebook's paper. But the words were deep, carefully chosen to make soft rhymes, forcing the reader to delve more into what was already written.

After a few moments, fingers ran through the creases of the paper listlessly, his eyes still transfixed on the written words. He had lost himself too much that he didn't notice the lock slowly sliding off its confines, revealing a pale young man with a tall structure, clad in a heavenly white towel from waste down.

Blue eyes widened at the sight of him, lips opening in an unfeigned surprise. Silence reigned between them both, brown clashing with blue, until the latter noticed the small piece of paper that the other held in his hand.

Sakuragi saw a glimpse of a sudden stroke of shock cross Rukawa's eyes, his gaze following the other's as it laid on his fingers. Not knowing what else to say, he asked, "Did you write this?"

He watched the play of unreadable emotions in Rukawa's eyes. Unreadable, yes, but still, there was something in that usually blank gaze that kept him in his place. He had wanted to see more of it for some reason, not minding whether or not the boy was paying him any attention at all. It wasn't as if he haven't been ignored before anyway.

After a few moments of silence, Rukawa nodded hesitantly. "Yes," he replied, brows furrowed in what seemed like confusion before looking away. His eyes landed on his bag between himself and Sakuragi. Deciding that the best thing to do now was to get dressed lest he drop the towel around himself from the violent tremors made by his hands, he took a step forward to grab it.

"It's good you know."

Sakuragi watched wearily as Rukawa stopped in mid-step, only to wordlessly take another step to get back inside the shower stall with his bag.

His eyes wandered down to the poem again, reading it over. This was what Haruko meant, he told himself, reminding himself again of what the young girl had said before she left him. To find the thing that would complete me.

He didn't know how long he stood there, or why he stayed. He was oblivious to everything by the time he started reading the poem again and after reminding himself of Haruko's words. His mind had wandered to that unforgettable night, how he had doubted Rukawa's intentions, taking it as some sort of sick joke. But then the by the next day, and the days that soon followed, he realized how much the words had meant to him, and most probably to Rukawa as well. He had not known what thoughts played in the other's mind, but certainly, it had nothing to do with a prank or a joke.

He meant it. He meant it with all his being, but all Sakuragi had done in return was to ignore him and turn his back.

"Sakuragi."

The red-haired boy's thought trailed away at the sound of his name, looking up to meet with blue eyes cast down on the tiled floors. Rukawa was fully clothed now, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a loose shirt. Looking at Rukawa, it was only then did Sakuragi realize the extent of the days that both of them had gone through, the wordless world they've made up that made them believe as if the other was but a dream they were supposed to forget.

After a moment of silence yet again, Rukawa looked up to meet with the other's gaze. "I am not expecting anything from you," he said, repeating his last words to the other, reliving that night, eyes wandering to the floors again. He noted the weakness of his voice. He hated himself for it. He was not like this, he was never like this. How could someone like that proud redhead change him so much?

Sakuragi grunted, shaking his head. "Why would I care about the expectations of a dumb fox like you?"

A small gasp escaped from Rukawa's lips, eyes widened at the intensity of the other's voice. He looked up, expecting a look of disgust that had haunted his dreams almost every night, steeling himself for the upcoming pain that will revive itself inside of him.

But nothing came. Sakuragi was...smiling.

It took his breath away. He never failed to impress him, does he? It was as if the redhead himself was a chest filled with surprises waiting to be opened. Never in his life had expected something like this though.

Knocking himself back to reality, a look of confusion crossed Rukawa. "W-What do you mean?" he asked hesitantly.

Sakuragi shrugged. "I just met up with someone a while ago. She gave a strange statement before she left. At first I didn't get what it meant, but now...well, I guess I'm not as confused as I was before. She made me realize what it was that made me who I am and what made me complete."

Rukawa was silent. Interpreting Sakuragi's words as something else, the hope that sparkled in his eyes died into a dark glint, his head bending down again. So Sakuragi found whatever it was he was looking for, was he telling it to him to mock him and show him how useless he was?

Whatever it was, he decided that it was working. "Oh," was all he muttered, as if he understood, when for all he knew, he did not. Not bearing any other possibilities, he turned around to walk away.

"You really are dumb."

Stopped again by that voice. Seems like he had been a mechanical doll that moved only by the will of the one who just spoke.

He turned around. Sakuragi stood there, an irritated expression in his face as he eyed the other from where he stood. He shook his head. "Don't you get it?" he asked him.

Rukawa slowly shook his head.

Sakuragi sighed. "Oh well, at least I have proof that I'm still a tensai and you're still a dumb fox," he said, picking up his bag. He decided to just clean up at home and made his way towards the other boy, who stood like an exact replica of a stone statue even as he came closer. He motioned towards the door. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

Rukawa was in a state of what seemed like a battle between following the redhead or asking him series after series of questions. But deciding that the latter would be quite difficult now that Sakuragi was already too far for conversation, his feet somehow came to life and started to take a quick stride to keep up with the other's own.

They walked in silence, but not anymore with the discomfort both felt against the other. Sakuragi hummed a low tune that distinctly sounded like his 'Ore wa Tensai' song, the very song that would usually piss off every single member of the team just by hearing it. But now, to Rukawa, it seemed like an angel's hymn, putting a comforting calm to take in the space that held the uneasy silence.

I realized what it was that made me who I am and what made me complete.

Those words played over and over in his mind, followed by the way Sakuragi had looked at him as if telling him to understand. It was like a line in a poem, simple words that held a thousand meanings.

Warm fingers slithered their way towards the other's, coiling ever so gently to hold his hand in a tender but protective grasp.

A ghost of a smile graced what was supposed to be the lips of an emotionless soul, proving all his doubts wrong. Whatever those words meant, whichever meaning out of a thousand, at least he was sure of what it would reflect.

His hope brought back to life.

The End

Mitsui: Hah! As if this pathetic excuse for a fanfic would render you forgiven! I didn't even get a single dialogue!
Che: *teary eyes and bows apologetically* I'm so sorry! *turns to reader* This is a fic to make up for the missing chapters of Study Partners *sweatdrops*. My Lady Muse is not being a good girl these days, I can't seem to get any inspiration for the next chapters. I need suggestions! . What will happen?! Mitsui-sama's already bashing my head! o
Mitsui: *sweatdrops* The next chapter of SP is supposedly a gift for my Min-kun, but hell, what did she say? She couldn't write because she had no inspiration! What do you call me then?!
Che: *goofy grin* My proclaimed god next to Rukawa-sama, stolen from Kogure-sama on his birthday! =^0^= *gets hit with a hurled basketball* Anyway, thank you for reading this little thing I wrote ^_^ I dedicate this fanfic to Silvercross-san for being very patient with idiot me. I finally understood how the highschool levels go =^.^= Of course, dedicated too to everyone who are patient enough to bear with boke Che-chan and my twisted ways in getting inspiration. I also dedicate this to Mitsui-sama and Rukawa-sama, who endlessly barrages me with menacing glares and accusing me of loving Kurapika-sama more than them.
Mitsui: *takes Rukawa plushy away from Che-chan* It's true. You write for him more than you write for us *grumbles and leaves Cherrie irately withher SD plushies*.
Che: I'm just not inspired!!! *breaks down crying and desperately runs after Mitsui but gets kicked off the window instead*