"In visions of the dark night, I have dreamed of joy departed."

Ayaka-sensei had been reciting from their textbook, a quiet recital of an English poem. Fuji gazed out of the window, and saw the foliage swirl in a whirlwind of burnished gold and red. The wind was chilly and smelt of rain, crumpled leaves amidst the loose soil. Her voice was distinctive but soft, a sound that cut his soul loose and left him transfixed with the beauty of the words and the stark truths presented.

He sincerely believed that he was losing his mind. Tezuka didn't believe him when he said that he had let everything go, had let every last detail float away into the past…which somehow kept returning. Returning with their cold, folded edges perfectly pristine. Nowadays, Fuji slept with all the lights on. He had walked into the living room one day to see his sister and father glance up at him guiltily, and he had known instantly that they were discussing him. He had done his best to smile and act normal, but it didn't deter him from leaving every single light burning brightly into the night.

Still he couldn't sleep much. And the strain was beginning to show around his eyes, and the way he wearily decimated his opponents on court, putting a quick end to them to catch some sleep between the games. Tezuka had miraculously left him alone, without adding laps for him to run, and rumours of a special relationship between them was beginning to flourish through the club. Sometimes, he ran anyway, if only to get the mocking voices out of his mind, and the concerned, resigned expression of Tezuka's away from his sight.

Did he truly walk through the paved road of memories, unknown to him, each night?

He could only wonder.

"I don't understand what you had to gain from it."

"I don't know; I quite liked the satisfaction of watching you fall."

"Why do you hate me so much?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I don't hate you. I can say that I had honestly attempted to be friends with you, in order to see the perfection which everyone else apparently believed in. There was nothing behind your image, but the slut that you always were."

The pages of Fuji's book shivered and folded painfully. He had clenched his fists so tightly, but he couldn't avoid her seeing that his hands were shaking.

"I'm sorry, was that a touchy subject?"

She laughed quietly, demurely. The rest of the class was involved in the literature discussion, and the chatter drowned out their soft conversation.

"Don't hate Eiji though. He's merely the person who handed over the proof of your debauchery to me. Isn't it pathetic for a person's best friend to hand over such evidence to someone he barely knew? It says a lot for the kind of relationship you have, doesn't it? Could it be because he can no longer stand how hypocritical you are?"

"You aren't as perfect as you make to believe, either."

"Oh, but I do know that. Yet, no matter how debased you feel my actions are right now, nothing can be comparable to your own after all."

"…what do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I meant. You were the one who single-handedly drove my brother to suicide after all."

"I didn't…"

"Yes, you did. It was you. He told us that much, and we never even expected him to take his life. You were killing him slowly, all along, while he was with you."

No…I didn't want to…

"You made him too dependant on you. He couldn't even leave your side, and lead his life alone. Can't you see how you've ruined him?"

..it wasn't me. It wasn't me and I didn't mean to and I -

"Can't you see how it was all because of you?"

"HE LEFT. He broke up with me and not the other way around, and I DON'T KNOW WHY HE KILLED HIMSELF and I…I didn't force him to…"

Fuji abruptly realised that he was crying, only after Haruka gave him a startled look, reaching out sympathetically to brush away the moisture that dusted his lashes. The class remained in shocked silence, even as his literature partner shifted closer to his side, and touched his arm comfortingly. The silence stretched on in what seemed like forever.

"Fuji-kun, are you alright?" Ayaka-sensei called out haltingly, worried at the violent reaction from her favourite student. Haruka seemed to be calming him down, whispering softly into his ear, and there was a moment where he lifted his head and she could see the sanity flooding back into his cerulean eyes.

Without warning, Fuji raised his hand and struck Haruka harshly.

"Fuji, I think you're losing it nyah."

"For you to be talking to me, and actually sounding concerned, I guess you might be right."

"…you don't sound like yourself."

"Oh? Forgive me for the slight retardation in my thinking, but we weren't friends for quite a long period of time. I didn't quite expect you to be the expert, with the most updated information on what constituted being 'me' and what didn't."

"What is your problem? Unlike you, I'm trying to get over the past; at least you should know that I'm just trying to help you!"

"You're certainly doing an admirable job at it."

"You know what, screw it. You can fuck off and do whatever you want with your messed up life."

"A pleasure talking to you as always."

The school was large, certainly big enough to hide a person inside, away from the eyes of everybody else. Still, he had nowhere to go. He didn't want to be alone, not really, just beside someone who understood and didn't judge him. As it was, he could only turn to Tezuka but he couldn't bring himself to approach the aloof captain. Tezuka required a certain submission from him, a charming acquiescence to his authority and he felt like rebelling against it, fighting against their close bonds irrationally, struggling to free himself from a tangled web of what was only love and concern.

Sometimes he didn't understand himself.

He didn't want to say a word and he didn't want to appear weak to everyone else around him. He wished to swallow back his hurt and lash himself until the pain outside made any emotional injury pale in comparison, but the pain was fresh in his mind and the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. He had made Eiji sad, and it hurt him when he saw the expression of the acrobat's face. Deep down, he knew that his friend had only been trying to help.

But laid bare like that, his wounds flayed open and ready for the receiving of unwanted sympathy and infinite compassion…he couldn't bear it. It made him want to cry whenever he was treated too gently, too well, too kindly, and it hurt him more to be laid so open for all to see. Tears had dusted his eyelashes lightly, and his voice was still perfect, reaching into the winds and through the sky, turning away and hurting his best friend and making him cry with the same dry cruelty.

Why?

He stopped attending the rest of the day's classes.

"I demand that you apologise to Haruka-chan. Fuij. You struck her in front of the class when she had only been trying to help! You may have been overworked but there's no excuse for the atrocious behaviour you have been displaying lately."

The tennis courts were deserted, save for the regulars who remained behind to view the last ongoing match that day. Momo and Ryoma were fighting it out over the last set, whilst Fuji stood behind the stands, partially concealed by the dark green netting that bordered the courts.

Fuji felt like he was starting to come apart. No longer was it a fraying of the edges, but outside, he smiled as hard as he could as he felt his world starting to unravel. He felt so tired that it hurt even to breathe, every cell in his body screaming for rest and shutdown. It made him long to close his eyes and sink to his feet, burying himself in the loneliest corner of the school that he could find.

"You do know that what you did was wrong, don't you, Fuji-kun?"

No, he didn't understand at all. Why could no one comprehend? He asked himself repeatedly in his mind, but he understood that as long as he protected himself, there would be no one who would come to his aid, and no one who would love him – an illusion that never showed his true self to others. But even when he did, there would be no one who would bother. And there was someone he loved so badly that he missed his presence and his comfort, and everything warm and stoic and indescribably lonely about the other boy. There wasn't anything he wouldn't have done for him, but he couldn't let himself go around the captain. He would have to change, and mutate into a different sort of creature altogether, willing to bend to the other's iron will. And it was even more complicated, when he knew in his heart that all Tezuka wanted was to make him happy. Where could he turn to?

He felt a familiar intrusion into his space, and turned to see Tezuka standing beside him, watching the match with an impassive expression. A sudden ache burned in him, to hold Tezuka and be held, and to know it didn't hurt as badly, because someone was willing to take his hand and be with him through everything. But he didn't want to love him; he never even told Tezuka that he loved him before. Even now, he knew that the other had to be feeling isolated, defensive, and as terribly lonely as ever. Probably worse, because in spite of everything he felt and meant, Fuji still flirted with him and teased him and made him blush just to see the faint colour rise in his cheeks. He liked having that degree of control over him, and he wanted to hurt Tezuka too, but the other boy accepted everything without a single word of complaint.

Somehow that made his heart hurt the most.

"Tezuka…" he murmured softly, feeling his heart crack a little.

"Aa."

"Could you lend me fifteen seconds?"

Tezuka blinked at that, his eyes catching the gleam of sunlight that flickered against his glasses. The silence that followed Fuji's abrupt question was broken by clapping and cheers of encouragement as Momo scored a point against Ryoma.

He was stunned when Fuji slid his arms around his waist and hugged him.

It was his instinctive response to push the shorter boy away from him, stopping him from such a public display of affection. But something told him that if he turned him away again, things would change irreparably between them from then on. He accepted his usual flirting; he could withstand the soft touches that Fuji inflicted on him day after day, but a simple hug made a lump come into his throat. The yearning to keep Fuji safe and happy in his arms, resounded strongly within him, and yet he found himself completely helpless as to break down the walls that Fuji built around himself.

He probably would not have been able to tell that Fuji was crying, if not for the tension and slight shaking that ran through Fuji's back and arms in an awkward bid to stop crying that hard. By then, Tezuka knew him well enough; to understand how horribly humiliated the other was, by this silent admission of defeat. And if he ever said anything, even words of encouragement, it would force the other boy to turn away, smiling the same broken smile as he walked away yet again.

So Tezuka said nothing, and tightened his arms around the slender boy.

END CHAPTER

A/N: I believe there should be roughly 2-3 chapters left to go! Was this too angsty? I'm not happy with the way the conversation turned out between Haruka and Fuji though. It's a little too contrived but well...I couldn't really think of any other way the conversation would have developed. :(