A bit more angst and less music in this one...I wasn't expecting to write this scene, but it just came to me, and I had no choice!

Title: Truth and Lies

Time: Year 1 (shortly after the events of the previous story)

Characters: Yukimura, Fuji, Yuuta


Yukimura looked up from his desk to glance over at his roommate, who was feigning interest in a textbook.

Fuji sometimes read novels or manga, but he never studied. And so, he was either so completely bored that he was pretending to be a normal high school student, or he was trying to catch Yukimura's attention for purposes of his own. Yukimura didn't know which of those alternatives was the more dangerous.

"Fuji," Yukimura said. "That's an English textbook."

Fuji raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm studying. Is that a problem?"

Yukimura glared at him. "You lived in England for four years. You're fluent."

Fuji smiled, seemingly unabashed.

"What do you want?" Yukimura said, attempting to cut straight to the point, and knowing it probably wouldn't work. Fuji was a good roommate, and a good friend, but he was also completely exasperating at times—well, most of the time.

"What do you think of Atobe?" Fuji said.

Yukimura blinked. "Atobe?"

"You know, the one I introduced you to last weekend."

"I know who Atobe is. He's your friend, why are you asking me what I think of him?"

Now, it was Fuji's turn to stare, opening his brilliant blue eyes wide.

"Yukimura," he said. "Are you telling me you didn't realize why I introduced him to you?"

"Well," Yukimura said, drawing out the word. "If he's a good violinist, I can start a string quartet with him and Tezuka."

Fuji looked at him, and then began to laugh. He laughed until he was collapsed backwards against his desk, and tears ran down his cheeks.

Yukimura waited.

"Oh my," Fuji said, wiping his eyes. "Now there's something I never would have anticipated. A face like yours, and the best violinist under eighteen in Tokyo, and you're apparently romantically impaired."

"I am not!" Yukimura protested. "Oh…" So Fuji had introduced him to Atobe in hopes of setting the two of them up. "Well, if you thought that I would in a million years date Atobe Keigo, you're romantically impaired too."

"I knew it was a long shot," Fuji said, his calm restored. "I just talked to him on the phone this evening, and he said that 'same-instrument couples are doomed to failure', by which he means that he would never date someone who was prettier than him and a better violinist."

"He has a point," Yukimura said. "If you play the same instrument as your boyfriend, someone is going to be better. Someone is going to be jealous. A relationship can't outlast that sort of tension. Speaking of which, why did you agree to go out with what's-his-name this morning?"

"Saeki?" Fuji said. "Because he asked."

Yukimura rolled his eyes. "Be serious."

Fuji smiled, and walked across the room to perch himself on the edge of Yukimura's bed. "I am serious."

"You're going to break up with him tomorrow, aren't you?" Yukimura said.

"I never said that," Fuji murmured, moving so close that his lips brushed Yukimura's ear.

Yukimura pushed his own chair backwards away from the desk, putting a healthy distance between himself and his roommate. "You should, since he doesn't mean a thing to you."

"He's nice," Fuji said. "I like him."

"If you feel that way, then you shouldn't play with his feelings."

Fuji grinned. "Maybe you should consider being a relationship counselor, if your career as a violinist doesn't work out." He flung himself off the desk so that he landed in Yukimura's lap, sending both of them flying.

Yukimura's head spun for a moment, and when he realized what had happened, he also realized that Fuji had him pinned on the floor, with their faces about two inches apart.

"Now you're just trying to distract me," he growled.

"Is it working?"

"Not really. Go find your boyfriend."

"You just told me to leave Saeki alone, so I assumed you were volunteering as a replacement." Fuji ran a delicate finger along Yukimura's cheek.

Yukimura grabbed his wrists and pushed him away.

"Oh, stop it. You know it doesn't work that way."

Fuji leaned forward again, tilting his head, parting his lips every so slightly.

"What do you want?" Yukimura demanded in frustration.

Fuji's eyes clouded, his expression turned sullen.

"It's easy for you," he said. "All you want is to be the best. And you're almost there already, so it's easy."

Yukimura rolled to a sitting position and neatly slid away from Fuji's attempt to move closer.

"And," Fuji added, "If I was Yumiko, you'd be naked already."

Yukimura had only met Fuji's sister a few times, but he knew that it was true. Yumiko's presence was warm. She had a way of making everyone she looked at feel wanted, needed, desired.

Fuji was cold. He and Yumiko looked a great deal alike, but it was obvious to Yukimura, even when Fuji had him pinned to the floor, that he didn't want to be touched. He made people feel small and insignificant. No wonder they pursued him.

Yukimura draped an arm over Fuji's shoulders.

"If you're bored enough to be spending a Friday evening seducing your roommate, you should find something to do. Try practicing sometime. Or, if you're in such a bad mood, think of something else we can do."

"Let's sneak out," Fuji said. "Come on, I'll take you somewhere."

Yukimura shrugged. "It's up to you to make sure we don't get caught."

Fuji laughed. "We won't get caught."


The place Fuji brought him was a simple, one-story house with a neat front yard and a single car in the garage. Very ordinary. There was a light on somewhere in the back, but most of the house was dark.

"Why here?" Yukimura asked. "Did you bring me here to stalk someone?"

"Sort of," Fuji said. "This is my family's house."

"But you live at TSA," Yukimura said. "I thought you had lived there with your family since you moved back to Japan."

"Yes," Fuji said. "Since Mother and Yumiko both work there, I do. I went to that middle school down the street. But my father lives here. Haven't seen him for a while."

"Aren't your parents divorced?" Yukimura asked, hoping he didn't sound too insensitive.

Fuji chuckled. "No," he said. "Nobody knows why not. They're not suited for each other at all. They met in college—he was a business student, she was a pretty pianist at the nearby conservatory. And then, they had brilliant babies and she became the world's most frightening parent and abandoned him to manage her daughter's education. Because she was just good, and Yumiko was a genius."

He led Yukimura around to the back of the house, and pointed into the room where the light was coming from.

A boy sat in a bedroom lit only by the lamp at his desk, studying. Yukimura couldn't see well enough to make out his features, but there didn't seem to be a strong resemblance to Fuji. He looked ordinary.

"That's my brother," Fuji said. "His name is Yuuta. He's a year younger than us."

"I didn't know you had a brother," Yukimura said.

"He didn't come to England with us," Fuji said. "You see, Yumiko is the prodigy. Her education, her career is the priority." Fuji spoke so matter of factly, as if he was analyzing someone else's family, instead of his own. "Yuuta isn't gifted. He plays clarinet, but not all that well, at least not last time I heard him. I don't know if he likes music that much. So Mother doesn't pay attention to him—bad enough she had to go through the pregnancy, she's not about to waste time on his life."

"And where does that leave you?"

Fuji's eyes flashed. "What do you think?"

I don't think you know, Yukimura almost snapped back at him, but he held his tongue. Fuji was his friend and roommate, but his personal life wasn't Yukimura's business or Yukimura's problem. And whatever was bothering Fuji, there was nothing Yukimura could say to make it better.

"You don't have anything to say?" Fuji asked.

Yukimura smiled and batted his eyelashes. "You weren't having any success seducing me, so now you're trying to woo me with personal information. Give up."

"Is it so wrong to want to visit my brother? Besides, you never talk about your family, either."

"They're boring," Yukimura retorted. "There's nothing to say. Let's go back to school. We're leaving on the Tokyo Youth Symphony trip tomorrow—are you packed?"

"Not yet," Fuji said. "So?"

"Genius might do a lot of things for you, but it won't help you fold your clothes any faster," Yukimura said. "Let's go, it's getting late."

There were very few completely honest people in the world. Everyone had their secrets, and the things they were afraid to reveal even to themselves. Yukimura had just been shown a little more of Fuji tonight, and he wasn't sure that it had been something he wanted to see. They had only known each other for a few weeks, after all. And Fuji could be frightening, especially in the moments when he seemed far, far older than sixteen.

But Yukimura knew now that if there was not honesty between them, there was trust. Enough trust that they didn't have to worry about the things that remained unspoken.