Happy Birthday, Fuji Syuusuke! As promised, the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed this story. Despite being a surprise project, I enjoyed writing it immensely. Thank you for reading!


Chapter 7. Monday

Fuji wakes to sharp beeping sound from his phone.

The sky is still fully dark outside. His phone screen shows five eleven in the morning before going blank. His last memory is of talking to Tezuka in the living room as the night grew darker around them. He sits up and looks around. He'd gone to sleep right on the sofa, go figure, and his back and neck protest – his sofa is comfortable, but not that comfortable – and the air is chillier in the living room than in his bedroom. At least he'd had the foresight to bring out his comforter and pillow last night.

Tezuka is nowhere to be found.

Fuji doesn't call aloud. He gets up and pads silently to the kitchen and turns on the light. He goes to his bedroom next to turn on the light, then the bathroom, his office, and finally returns to the living room.

He is utterly and completely alone.

He sinks down on the sofa and stares out to the balcony, which is still shrouded in pre-dawn darkness. Nothing but the cold empty air. Fuji leans back and closes his eyes.

Sharp beeps sound from his phone again, alerting him he has missed messages. Come to think of it, he'd left his phone behind yesterday when he went out, not wanting any interruptions. He probably has messages from his family, and maybe even work. He'd been distracted for an entire week, after all.

Fuji scowls in the phone's general direction, then picks it up. He should at least dismiss the alerts so they won't continue to demand his attention. He swipes the phone awake and scrolls through the phone's status updates. Nine missed calls. Sixteen missed messages. That's actually way more than he'd expected. Frowning, Fuji flips to the missed call history. Maybe there was an emergency at work. But no, seven of the nine calls are from Eiji. One from Oishi. One from Taka-san.

Now worried, Fuji checks his missed text messages.

Fuji why are u not answring ur phone call me back, writes Eiji in the first message. Srsly wtf where are u? are u okay? reads the second one. The next three messages are all in the same vein, asking where he is, why isn't he calling back. Then, Eiji's next message is cut for length into two:Come on Fuji Oishi says even Ochibi came I know u guys had some kinda problm but srsly this is too much wtf Fuji come on now how longg has this been going on Oishi says inui drpped inn Thursdyy an even INUI was surprised u and diddn't come its not like u to be this mean come on u have to visit ur the only one who hasnt com around if I'd known i'd have dragged u hear with me today omfg srssly wut even.

Next two messages are from Oishi. Hi Fuji, it's Oishi. I'm sorry if Eiji's been spamming you. Eiji, Taka-san and I are visiting together today and Eiji got a little upset when I mentioned you haven't been in touch. Then: I know you must be really busy, but if you could come visit just once, it would mean a lot. Tezuka's parents remember you, you know. They asked about you.

Fuji's heart sinks at the mention of Tezuka's family. The pain flares back to life, chasing away the numbness he'd felt when he first awoke. He scrolls past the other messages until he hits the last one. It's from Taka-san.

Hey Fuji. Um. I know Eiji's probably sent you like a hundred texts by now. Sorry to add to the chorus, but...I'd like to think we're a team for life. Could you maybe come by just once? Please? I think everyone would like it very much, and so would I.

He should go, he knows. He feels guilty for leaving this for so long, but in his defense, he was quite distracted for the last week by none other than Tezuka himself. He will go. If nothing else, he should properly say his last goodbye, and... The last picture that Tezuka took of him. Tezuka would like to have it. He should take it to Tezuka for a final send-off.

He goes to his office to print a copy of the picture. To his surprise, the lighting is not as bad as he feared. His face stares back at him, framed by red-golden light reflected on the lake. The expression on his face makes him look away immediately. He looks so naked in it, without any defenses, no mask at all. The picture itself is quite well composed, definitely worth all the fuss Tezuka put him through, but just a brief glance at it makes his stomach turn, bringing back all the feelings of loss and pain and regret he'd felt at that moment.

He sets it aside, and opens his email to type a quick message to work. He pleads family emergency although he doesn't provide details, which won't endear him to his bosses any, but it cannot be helped. Then, he goes through his text messages again, scanning for any other messages from Oishi, the likeliest person to provide directions on where and when to visit. As he thought, there are two more. He scrolls to the first of the two.

If you want to drop by, Tezuka is at Tokyo Medical University Hospital, Room 1421. Visiting hours are 9-6. Tezuka's mother is usually here every day.

Fuji stops cold, heart leaping to his throat. Hospital. Visiting hours. His hand is unsteady as he reads Oishi's next message.

If you and Tezuka...still haven't resolved everything, it's not like he'd know. He hasn't woken up even once since Monday. If you can, Fuji, please come and visit.

Vertigo.

Fuji sinks back in his office chair, fighting dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. Monday. That was the day of the accident. He knew that from the short breaking news alert he'd seen. Tezuka hasn't woken up since then.

Still alive. Breath escapes him in a whoosh, the sheer relief enough to sap all strength from his body. Fuji trembles, disbelief warring with hope. Tezuka is still alive.

Then, a cold knot of fear freezes his heart. Tezuka was here. Tezuka believed he was a ghost, already dead, and by last night, Tezuka had been ready to move on, to afterlife or wherever ghosts go. Before thought quite catches up with him, Fuji fumbles for a number, and presses send.

Eight interminable rings later, a sleepy voice answers him. "Hello?"

"Oishi," Fuji breathes. With his free hand, he scans news sites on his iMac. All news of Tezuka is at least a few days old. Car accident, Japan's golden tennis star injured. Receiving treatment in Tokyo Medical University Hospital. Nothing recent. "It's Fuji. Sorry I'm—" He can't quite negotiate breathing and thinking at the same time. "When was the last time you saw Tezuka?" he demands, politeness be damned. If Tezuka really moved on, thinking himself dead, and his body still alive... Fuji shakes his head. No. He can't let that happen.

"Wha— Fuji?" Oishi sounds dumb with shock, but Oishi has always been a resilient sort. He rallies in an instant. "Good to hear from you. Eiji and I were a bit worried yesterday. As for Tezuka, I saw him yesterday evening. There were no changes the last I heard."

"He's in a coma?" Fuji asks, nearly breathless. He's already figuring out routes to the hospital. "Still?"

"As far as I know," Oishi confirms. "Fuji, what's wrong?"

There is no time to explain. If Oishi will even believe him, which is doubtful. "I have to see him right now."

"Visiting hours—"

"I know. I still have to go. Oishi, can you..." It's silly and childish of him, wanting a friend there for support without even giving any sort of explanation. And Oishi has every right to condemn him for his absence until now.

"You want me there?" Oishi asks gently. "Sure, no problem. Besides, I forgot to tell you." There is a thread of sly humor in Oishi's voice. "I work at Tokyo University Hospital. I started there a month ago but didn't get a chance to tell you. I could probably help you bypass the visiting hour thing. I'll meet you at the hospital whenever you make it."

"Half an hour," Fuji says immediately. "I'm sorry, Oishi. Thank you." He means it with all his heart.

Bless Oishi, he doesn't even ask. "Not at all. See you in half an hour."


Fuji doesn't remember how he makes it to the hospital. All he is thinking, praying, is for Tezuka to realize, to come back. He doesn't care if Tezuka doesn't remember the last week, if Tezuka is angry with him for severing all contacts ten years ago. If Tezuka is still alive, if Tezuka lives, then Fuji still has a chance to make things right again.

It's still dark when he gets off the taxi at the Tokyo Medical University Hospital front entrance. He probably overpaid the taxi fare, but he can't bring himself to care. Oishi is waiting for him, as promised, in his scrubs and white coat. He comes to clasp Fuji's hand as if nothing happened.

"Oishi," Fuji says, and cannot manage another word, so grateful for Oishi's presence.

"Come on. I'll sneak you inside. Mind you, it's a good thing Tezuka's mother went home last night, or there might have been some questions," Oishi says, but his tone is playful. He is transparently and genuinely glad to have Fuji here no matter what else happened. And Oishi being Oishi, he doesn't even ask why Fuji didn't bother to ask after Tezuka for a whole week, then suddenly called Oishi at the crack of dawn and demanded to see Tezuka right away. Instead, Oishi leads him through the maze of corridors and elevators, straight to Tezuka's room.

His knees almost buckle when the room door opens to reveal Tezuka sleeping with various machines beeping around him.

Then, his relief is swiftly replaced by worry. Where is Tezuka?

"Do you need a moment alone?" Oishi asks. Kind, gentle Oishi, so undeservedly good to him. Fuji gazes up at him with breathless gratitude, and Oishi actually looks startled. Then he composes himself, and says, understandingly, "I'll be outside, then. Take your time. Come get me if you need me." Then Oishi steps out of the room, leaving him alone with Tezuka.

"Tezuka," Fuji whispers to the sleeping Tezuka. Cautiously, half-fearing this is all an illusion, he walks closer to the bed and reaches out to touch Tezuka's cheek. Tezuka's skin is cool to the touch, but not icy. The intravenous drip is on his right hand, so Fuji reaches for his left hand. "Please, come back. You're still alive. You need to come back."

Please, he says in a fervent prayer to anyone who might be listening. Please let him come back. I haven't even had a chance to tell him properly.

Still holding Tezuka's left hand, Fuji leans over, looking over the beloved face, changed yet familiar, and presses his lips against Tezuka's.

Their second kiss tastes faintly like antiseptic.

Tezuka doesn't stir.

Fuji slumps in a chair beside Tezuka's bedside with a frustrated huff of breath. It figures romantic clichés don't actually work in real life. The heart rate monitor continues to beep placidly, never changing its rhythm.

"God damn it, Tezuka," Fuji growls. "I can't believe you'd dump me after only one date. If I'm really the only regret you have, at least stick around for a second one!"

In the wake of his outburst silence is deafening, broken only by the steady beeps from the monitor. Suddenly feeling drained, Fuji puts his face in his hands, and sighs. The beeping sound grows quicker, then slows, then hastens again. A hoarse sound makes Fuji look up.

Tezuka stares back at him, blinking then squinting. "...Fuji...?" he says, his voice nearly inaudible. The breathing tubes in his nose probably don't help the dry throat, Fuji's mind notes clinically, but he cannot move. He's frozen in his seat. Tezuka frowns. "...Where..."

"In the hospital," Fuji says woodenly. His mind is careening too wildly to make any sense of the emotions going through him right now. His words come in automation, no conscious thoughts behind them. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"The other car. I was in an accident." The second part is a question.

"Yes."

"You...came to visit?"

"You don't remember." It's a conclusion that leaps to his throat before his thoughts catch up with him. He prayed for Tezuka to come back no matter what the cost, after all. It shouldn't hurt this much to lose the last week. It's a small price to pay to have Tezuka alive and well. "I came to give you something," Fuji says softly. He pulls out the print of the picture Tezuka took at the Shinjuku National Garden, the last picture of their date together, and places it on the table next to Tezuka's bed. "The rest – can wait."

"You're leaving." It's not a question this time.

"I'll come back," Fuji promises.

Tezuka's lips purse. In his disoriented state, Tezuka hasn't even questioned why Fuji is here when it's obviously not visiting hours. When his mind catches up, Tezuka will remember to be angry about the last ten years. It's okay, Fuji reminds himself. He can take anger. He'd take it over Tezuka being gone anytime.

"Really?" Tezuka's voice is hoarse from disuse and weak, but that is definitely a challenge. Fuji winces inwardly at the underlying bitterness, but plows on.

"I promise." He stands up on shaky legs, and reaches down to squeeze Tezuka's hand once. "Rest. Try not to go anywhere this time."

A confused frown creases Tezuka's brows. Fuji smiles at him, and knows his smile is hopelessly fond, nothing like his usual teasing smile, but doesn't care. He pats Tezuka's hand, and forces himself to let go and move away from the bed.

Outside the door, he finds Oishi nodding off in a chair. Poor Oishi must have dragged himself out of his bed at this ungodly hour solely at Fuji's behest. For Oishi, it has always been enough that a friend needs him, and he never needs a reason. None of them is ever going to deserve Oishi, but for starters, Fuji makes a mental memo to get Oishi something nice as a thank-you. "Oishi," Fuji calls quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Oishi startles awake. "Tezuka just woke up. You might want to go check on him."

"Fuji – what – Tezuka? Really? Wait are you – hold on, just wait here. I'll be—"

Fuji interrupts him as gently as only he knows how. "I'll wait. Go on."

Oishi rushes into Tezuka's room. Fuji can hear snatches of conversation, mostly Oishi's heartfelt, relieved voice, tearful and happy at the same time. After a moment, Oishi comes out, dabbing at suspicious moisture on his face. "I'm going to call the nurse and his attending physician. They'll have to check him out, but he seems alert and oriented. So far, so good. Thank God."

Fuji smiles at him, sharing the relief and gladness. "Go on. I'll come back and visit later. During proper visiting hours, even."

"If you have to visit off hours, just call me," Oishi offers. "I'm so glad you came, Fuji."

"I'll apologize to you at another time," Fuji answers. "When I'm not keeping you from your work. Go on, Oishi. Thank you for your help."

"Don't worry about it. I'll see you later. Maybe we can have lunch together and catch up. Can I call you later?"

"Yes. I took the day off work."

"Great. See you soon, Fuji!"

"See you soon," Fuji echoes, but knows Oishi's attention is already at his task, a doctor to his bones. He peeks into Tezuka's room, and catches a glimpse of Tezuka's hand, reaching for the bedside table. Reassured of Tezuka's continued consciousness, Fuji takes his leave.


Around noon, Fuji calls Oishi and treats him to lunch at a fancy Mediterranean restaurant. Over the meal Oishi informs him that the flurry of tests has died down, and Tezuka will likely be left alone to rest during the afternoon. Tezuka is doing well, Oishi happily tells him, and barring any complication, will be released from the hospital soon. Tezuka had come to the hospital with no significant injuries, it was just that the doctors became concerned when Tezuka's unconscious state continued uninterrupted for an entire week.

After lunch, Fuji visits Tezuka's room with a bouquet of flowers and – on a whim – a teddy bear bearing a heart that says "Get Well Soon." He runs into Tezuka's mother just outside the room, and she looks startled to see him.

"Fuji-kun," she says, and manages a smile despite looking tired and worn. She looks older than Fuji remembers, but is just as elegant and poised as ever. "It's been a while. I'm glad to see you."

"Please forgive me for being so slow to visit," Fuji says, bowing courteously. "How is he?"

"Doing well. He regained consciousness just this morning, so you came at a good time." She knocks and calls, "Kunimitsu? You have a visitor." Before she opens the door, she turns to give him a small but warm smile. "I hoped you would visit. He doesn't say much, but I think he's missed you."

"I'm sorry," Fuji answers earnestly. "I will make it up to him. I promise."

Tezuka's mother nods, and opens the door for him. "Go on. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on. Tell him I've gone outside to get something to drink, and will be back soon."

There is nothing to do but go inside. When he enters, Tezuka looks up, and briefly looks surprised. He can't delay any longer, so Fuji may as well open the conversation. "Good afternoon."

"Fuji." Tezuka is wearing glasses now. His voice is steadier, stronger. The angles of his face are sharper, more adult, but his eyes haven't changed at all. "It wasn't a dream this morning, then."

"No," Fuji says, and comes to offer the bouquet and the teddy bear. Tezuka gives them a wary look, like he expects them to explode in his hands or something, which is a little insulting. If he was going to give Tezuka something that explodes, he wouldn't be stupid enough to bring it in person and stand there waiting for it to go off.

"Thank you," Tezuka says warily, and puts them on the table next to his bed. "I wasn't sure, after you left. Only the picture you left behind made me think it was real."

"I figured you'd have a busy morning, and I would have been in the way," Fuji explains. Which is the truth. Also, he needed some time to think. Chiefly, to figure out how much to tell Tezuka about what happened in the past one week. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." The answer is immediate and automatic, like he's had to repeat is a hundred times. "The doctors don't want me walking around unattended," Tezuka adds with just enough hint of irritation that Fuji cannot help chuckling.

"You were in a coma for a week. It's enough to cause anyone concern."

"Anyone?" The question is sharp, to the point, and categorically Tezuka. And expected, given Tezuka has no memory of what happened while he was comatose in body and wandering in spirit.

"Yes," Fuji replies, and sobers. "I have a lot to tell you." Where to start? This is a chance he didn't think he would get just last night. He has no intention of letting it go. But Tezuka with his memories is also Tezuka with an injured pride, and – now Fuji is sure – a wounded heart. Fuji knows his own reaction would have been less than accepting had their places been exchanged. "For starters, I'm sorry I stayed out of contact for so long."

Tezuka's gaze is as penetrating as ever. But instead of asking why Fuji stopped all contact, Tezuka asks, surprisingly mild, "What happened to you?"

"A lot of things, most recent of which I'm not sure you'd believe," Fuji says, a hint of irony in his voice.

"The picture you left me."

"That's part of the reason I came today," Fuji concedes. "Something happened to me recently that made me realize I was wrong to do that. If it's not too late, I wanted to apologize. To see if—" To see if they can salvage something. To try and see whether they can take the chance they'd glimpsed at in the past week, the chance that they both thought lost. For a rare instance, Fuji feels at a loss for words.

"I was..." Tezuka trails off, then speaks again. "...Upset, at first, when you stopped talking to me. Then, I was angry. And confused. We were close. I didn't think I'd done anything to make you angry, and you never gave me a reason." Hurt, too. Fuji can read between lines enough to know that much. "Eventually, I decided I didn't care."

He deserved that, Fuji supposes, but can't help feeling a sliver of panic. Tezuka is patient, but isn't the type to forgive easily when wronged. Even if Fuji realized he wants to try again, Tezuka may not want to, with the memory of his time as a spirit lost.

"Who took that picture, Fuji?"

That isn't a question Fuji expected. He stares at Tezuka in silence, voice frozen in his throat.

"I looked at it. In it, you looked..." Tezuka's jaws tense. "I was angry. More furious than I'd ever been with you. I thought about it all morning. And I realized no matter what happened, I was far angrier that someone made you look like that."

Fuji can nearly feel the ghost of sensation of a hand on his cheek, slow and gentle, and can almost taste the chilled air and tears on his lips. "Thank you," he murmurs, to the apparition who has haunted him for a week, and to the Tezuka of the present who looks at him with undeserved kindness still.

It takes Fuji a few minutes to compose himself enough to speak again. His smile is wry, a little sad at the edges, but real. "The person who took that picture... Well, he broke my heart, but he doesn't know that. I think I can forgive him for it. I was in the wrong, too." Tezuka looks skeptical, but doesn't comment, accepting – as always – Fuji's answer. "Am I forgiven?" he asks, and knows the question isn't quite fair, but doesn't care this time. He's never been particularly selfless, anyway. Tezuka knows that better than most.

"That depends," Tezuka says judiciously, "on whether you intend to stay this time."

"I will. I promise."

"I will hold you to that," Tezuka warns.

"I hope you will," Fuji answers just as seriously. "After you're released from the hospital, can we meet for dinner? To catch up?"

Tezuka's answer is unhurried and unequivocal. "Yes." A hint of crease enters his brows. "Isn't today a workday?"

"I took today off," Fuji replies. It's so like Tezuka to worry about that.

The pause is so minute that anyone who doesn't know Tezuka as well as Fuji would have missed the flash of hesitation. "Can you stay longer?"

"All afternoon, but I think you'd get sick of me," Fuji says, a hint of their old teasing banter back in his voice. "While we're on that subject, Oishi was undeservedly nice to me today. But then again I did bribe him with free lunch. I doubt Eiji will be so easy to placate. He was upset that I didn't come visit you sooner."

"Kikumaru was convinced for a long time that I did something to push you away," Tezuka says, and doesn't sound annoyed about that, merely truthful. "He's more likely to be on your side over anyone else's."

Fuji huffs. "Right now, hardly. He called me seven times yesterday. And left me eleven messages, not counting the voice messages. He'll be furious with me."

Tezuka nods solemnly. They are both well accustomed to Kikumaru's moods. Fuji will need some serious bribes to get back in Kikumaru's good graces after that snub. "Oishi said everyone came by. Even Echizen. Although, I was asleep through all of it."

Paris Masters had finished on the eighth of November. Barclays ATP World Tour Finals had just begun yesterday on the fifteenth. For Echizen to visit during such a tight schedule, he must have been worried. "Echizen must be missing you terribly right about now," he says lightly, and doesn't fight to keep the affection coloring his voice.

"I'm sure he will live," Tezuka replies dryly, and Fuji lets out a startled laugh. It's not like Tezuka to make a glib riposte like that. But then again, Fuji reminds himself, he is really thinking of Tezuka as he was ten years ago. He now has a chance to know the Tezuka from the last ten years he missed, the Tezuka of the present, and – he hopes – the Tezuka in the future. "You've followed his career."

"And yours," Fuji allows. "Your Wimbledon final was amazing."

Tezuka isn't the type to look away, but there is a flash of discomfort in his gaze, like he's feeling a little embarrassed, maybe. "Thank you." After a moment of hesitation he adds, "I saw your works."

"My works?" Fuji is genuinely surprised. "How did you find out about them?"

Now it's definitely embarrassment coloring Tezuka's gaze. "I didn't keep in touch with you. I kept in touch with everyone else, even Kikumaru. And I think Inui's kept a detailed file on each of us even after we all went separate ways. Force of habit, I suppose. He forwarded me some pictures and newspaper clippings."

Presumably at Tezuka's request. Fuji feels flattered, but also not a little bit creeped out. "You know, it's normal for people to follow the careers of sports superstars like you and Echizen. It isn't as usual to follow a start-up architect working for someone else."

"I know." Tezuka sounds uncomfortable, but being Tezuka, won't deny the truth.

Fuji rewards him with a warm smile. "But I'm flattered. Any particular ones you liked?"

"I like all your works. But I'm partial to the circular kindergarten. And the sloped wooden house in the forest. I also liked the house with the roof and the ladders."

Fuji can't help but laugh. Incidentally, those are same particular favorites picked out by the amnesiac apparition Tezuka. And his own as well.

"Those are my favorite projects, too," Fuji confesses. "I can bring you a portfolio, if you want. I had to assemble an informal one very recently." For the ghost Tezuka, but Tezuka doesn't need to know that yet.

Tezuka nods. "Kikumaru said you still take pictures."

"When I can. Site photography is something of an essential to architects." And he can probably replicate the slideshow he'd made for Tezuka. "You want me to bring you some of them?"

"If you don't mind." Tezuka's tone is neutral, but the interest is clear.

"Not at all." An idea is beginning to form in his mind, though it may not work in the end. Maybe Tezuka's memories while he was a disembodied spirit are meant to remain lost. But if he were to revisit the past week with Tezuka, even if Tezuka never regains those memories, maybe Fuji will feel as if he's reclaimed the experience anyway. "Do I get to choose the restaurant for our dinner?"

"Yes." A heartbeat later Tezuka adds, "If you want."

Fuji chuckles. "I want," he reassures him. "I've got a few places I want to visit with you."

Tezuka considers. "Unless I'm cleared for Davis Cup final, I will be staying in Japan until the end of December."

Barclays Finals are the last of the tour tournament calendar. Next major tournament event that requires Tezuka's participation will be Australian Open in January, unless Tezuka chooses to compete in one of the ATP World Tour 250 series first. Fuji nods. "After what happened, you probably need some downtime anyway."

He can use some downtime too, Fuji thinks. It will be nice if they can share that.

"Fuji." Tezuka's voice is more sober, but cautious, not pressing. "Will you ever tell me who took that picture of you?"

So that has been weighing on Tezuka's mind much more than he expected. Fuji is touched, but resists the temptation to tell him. "I will. Just not right now."

Though you might end up guessing the truth before long anyway, Fuji thinks, but doesn't voice the thought.

"In time." It's half a question, half a demand.

"In time," Fuji agrees. "Believe me, I don't intend to waste any more of it."

Tezuka's hand covers his, and Fuji is startled by the warmth and determination illuminating Tezuka's eyes. "Neither do I."

This is their second chance, unexpectedly offered, but eagerly accepted. Whether the chance came by fate's whim or benevolent intervention, Fuji is grateful. He's learned his lesson. He won't waste time waiting for an opportune moment. Life is never certain enough to hold out for the one perfect moment that may never come.

Moments are all they have. Together, they will make each one count.

FINIS


Notes:

Tezuka's favorite projects for architect!Fuji, the grand reveal: Fuji Kindergarten, House to Catch the Forest, and Roof House (Yoshioka Prize winner), all by real-life architect Tezuka Takaharu.

For Fanfiction-net users: My Archive of Our Own (AO3) version story note for Monday contains some links (including the song), if you're interested. Remember to delete any underscores. archiveofourown._org/works/5759251/chapters/14053067

This story owes much to the K-drama Ju-gun ui Tae-yang (2013), which claims an unusual affection from me, second only to Queen Seon-Deok (2009) which is one of my favorites ever (and also the major impetus for Sea of Hidden Dragon). The title of the drama is a Korean pun, which can be read either "Mr. Ju's Ms. Tae" or "The Master's (Milord's) Sun." Specifically, there are two elements inspired by the drama: a living ghost (a spirit temporarily separated from still-living body due to traumatic/near-death experience) and a photo album which has seemingly empty landscape shots that originally contained a ghost in each scene. Actually, I think ghost-living person kiss scene is yet another. And for reasons I will not bore you with, "Day and Night" by Gummy, one of the theme songs from this drama, is effectively the theme song of this story as well. I would have credited the drama sooner, but I didn't want to give away the plot too early. ;)

I confess, I rushed posting of this story partly because it's dated, but also partly as a reaction to the beautiful east of the sun, west of the moon by fables. FIRST OFF, I LOVE THIS STORY. I actually read it years ago on LiveJournal before it was expanded. I loved it then, and I love it now. It's just that there was one section in that exquisite story that hit me hard, and I guess I wanted a pleasant fiction, even if a little unrealistic. I think at this point I don't have the stomach for true angst, at least where TeniPuri is concerned. (This is probably a good thing. ^_~)

Thank you for reading! And extra special dose of gratitude and love to all those who commented.

[ETA 3/1/2016:] Added some minor edits throughout the story. For those of you who asked me about possible epilogue/tie-in/sequel, I don't think it's likely. I'm in the middle of writing two long stories and editing/posting three. That's more than enough on my plate already. Sorry. :)