Disclaimer: POT doesn't and will never belong to me.
Chapter 3: who are you, father?
A powerful man strode through the arrival gates. He had arrived in Japan on his private plane. Normally he would just take a passenger jet, but he had heard about his son's situation and he decided to come back.
As he climbed into the limousine waiting for him at the entrance of the airport, he thought of his wife, who was currently shopping in Milan. Steeling his wondering mind, he pushed the thoughts of his wife away. His son needed him now, and he must help his only son. Perhaps not his only son, perhaps…
Disgusted by his thoughts, he closed his eyes to catch a quick nap. As he slipped into a troubled sleep, a pair of blue eyes stared appeared repeatedly in his mind's eye. A gentle smile and a laughing voice, his dreams were filled with the sense of loss and regret. So when he woke up by his chauffer, he wasn't refreshed, he felt even more burdened by the dreams he had for some time now, after meeting Tezuka's friend, it was as if...
Shaking himself mentally, he stepped into the door held wide open by his footmen. His butler gave him a proper bow and directed him to his son's location. Nodding a formal thank you to his butler, he left to find his son.
He knew that the butler was more than a servant to his son, as both him and his wife had always left their young son in the care of the very correct butler. He learnt his mistake when his son was five and came all the way to London to see him with his butler in tow.
He knew then and there that his son needed more than money and material goods. He needed a family and love. He could provide his son with a more complete family by coming back to their house in Japan more often. But love was something he never could seem to give to him, he had loved another woman and another little boy, all his love was used up.
When he reached his son's room, he entered without knocking. He wanted to give him a pleasant surprise, but this time it was him who was shocked. His son was sobbing his heart out.
The room was shrouded with shadows and the smell of liquor was unmistakable. He took a step forward. His heart wrenched at the broken look in his son's eyes. Kunimitsu was too caught up in his pain to see his father.
When he finally realized that someone else was present in his room, he reached out to the faint shadow within the many shadows dancing in his room.
"Fuji…you came back…you came back…I am so glad…I forgive you…just come back…don't leave…I am so scared, someone turned off the lights again…I can't see your face clearly anymore…Fuji…Syuu…" his son cried brokenly.
"Kunimitsu, it is me, your father." He spoke gently to his son.
"Father?" as if realizing that the shadow was not Fuji took away all his energy. He collapsed back into his unkempt bed and rolled away from his father. He didn't care; he didn't care if the God is here. He wasn't Fuji.
"Kunimitsu, you are worrying me. Please stop acting so forlornly, if you want to see your… friend again, just go and find him." He stopped when a loud and rude snore interrupted his speech. Knowing very well it was but a façade to hide his pain, he left. He didn't want to push him into anything. Not yet.
When the door closed with a loud click, Tezuka turned from his spoon position and stared at the ceiling. Hearing himself said Fuji's name shocked him. He had been repeating Syuu's name in his mind, but it was until today had he spoke of Fuji's name.
How many days had passed since Fuji left, how many days had he been sleeping and praying to see Fuji in his dreams, he couldn't remember. He felt so old and washed down, he felt cold as well, as if the God of Death was breathing on his body.
He closed his eyes, praying again for the merciful oblivious his sleep would provide him. It was the last resort. He was desperate for even a fragment of his love; a fragment would momentarily satisfy his pain-stricken heart.
His heart ached, as if Fuji had torn his heart from his body and ran off with it. His pride seemed to be so small and insignificant. He called Fuji; he called his mobile and the phone number he had scared out of his butler. Every time the reply he got was…
I am unable to pick up the phone now, so please leave a message if you have urgent matters to discuss with me.
He had called again and again. At first he was angry and disappointed, but now, he called just so he could hear the soft lilting voice of Fuji. He never left a message. He was too scared, afraid that Fuji would hear his voice message and not call him back. At least now, when Fuji didn't call back, he could console himself that Fuji didn't know who it was.
Paris, Fuji's apartment.
He stuffed his fist into his mouth in attempt to keep his cries and pain in. He knew that Tezuka had called many times a day. He knew that he called just to hear his voice on the voice machine. He wanted to delete his recording message, but whenever he hears the faint sharp intakes of breath of Tezuka's sobs. He forgot to do that.
He would sit by the phone, praying that Tezuka would call and leave a message. At least, then he would have an excuse to call him, he would have a chance to hear his voice again. But Tezuka never left a message; he always hung up whenever his recorded voice finished playing.
If only he didn't see the photographs, if only he forgot his true purpose there, he could have now stayed with Tezuka, still blissfully ignorant of their true relationship. If only he had a real father to prove his thoughts wrong, if only his mother hadn't died before telling him who was his real father.
Now all he had was a mountain of doubts and agony. In this silly world they lived in, he learnt that love could never withstand the heat of doubt and the impact of disbelief. At least, his love with Tezuka couldn't. And it was his entire fault. It was him, the smiling tensai who had robbed Tezuka of his smile and cruelly smashed his happiness.
He was a brilliant fool, who thought he could win this match in Fate against God. And he was proven the fool, after all.
Tezuka, who is your father, who is he? Who is he to me? Who is my father? Who is my brother?