A/N: Hey there, here is another chapter. The one you have been all waiting for. Hope you enjoy it. ^-^

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

~~ The Truth About The Past ~~

~~ 11. March, Early Morning ~~

Ryoma felt hands all around his body. On his shoulders, around his wrists, along his spine and on his neck. The whole way to their house went almost unnoticed by him, his heartbeat and the rushing of his own blood in his ears being the only sounds. His eyes darted from left to right, afraid to see someone, anyone. His ears trying to catch any strange or foreign sound, like the rustling sound of someone approaching. The rain was still pouring, lighter than before but still heavy enough to leave them wet and drenched in its cold water.

The steadiness of the hands was the only reason for him being able to move at all. His whole body felt like one big lump of ice and jelly, cold from the inside as well as the outside and so very weak. His skin was clammy from the cold sweat pouring out of his every pore. Those warm and unyielding hands, which held tight and pushed him gently forward to prevent him from stopping, kept him steady and sane. Without them, he would have bolted and run away like he had done so often in the last times whenever he got confronted with making decisions or uncomfortable situations.

They reached the door of their wooden house without complications after what felt like an hour. The wooden house, where he and the others had slept in. The hands pushed him gently forward, someone put off his shoes, another one led him inside and to the couches. As soon as the door's lock clicked shut and reassured him its lock falling in place, did the rushing sound and the beat of his heart fade in tune, turning more and more to a slow and quiet humming.

"Yukimura, you know it's better to be here. How do you want to tell the others to leave us alone? To get them out of their place without causing too much attention?" Tezuka's voice. Ryoma blinked the fog of shock away while searching for the others. Fuji was walking around, shutting the windows and closing the thick curtains, so nobody could look inside. Sanada went straight to the serving trolley, pulling out cups and a tea kettle. Monkey King was talking with someone on the other end of the phone. Tezuka returned from out of their bedroom, a large blanket in his hands and something that looked like his clothes. Yukimura had disappeared, nowhere to be seen.

"Here, better take a shower and warm yourself up a bit. We'll wait till you finish and then take one too." Tezuka gave him the items, which were really his clothes, and pointed with his head in the direction of the bathroom.

"You think you can do that without any incidents? I can help if you want…" Fuji offered and Ryoma wasn't sure if it was sincere or just teasing. He shook his head, walked inside the bathroom and everything else zoned out.

The next moment he really registered in his brain was him sitting on a couch, beside him sitting Sanada in his sleeping wear and putting a Japanese cup of tea in his hands. His whole body felt warmer, maybe thanks to the blanket covering his body and the cup of hot steaming tea now in his hands, but probably also due to the closeness of the others who sat close beside him on the couch. Fuji was actually sitting on the ground in front of him, looking alarmingly worried.

Tezuka sat on his other side, a warm hand resting between his shoulder blades while Yukimura sat diagonally opposite him at the other couch with Monkey King beside him. Had the couch always been so close or had they pushed it closer to him?
Ryoma blinked, saw Fuji moving his mouth and forming words but strangely enough no sound reached Ryoma's ears. He shook his head, blinking furiously and trying to clear the daze.

"Ryoma?" The teen jolted a bit by the sudden sound but was happy enough to actually hear the brunette's voice.
"Ryoma?" Fuji grew obviously even more worried by his silence and leaned closer, looking deeper into his golden eyes. The scent of oranges drifted into his nose and Ryoma couldn't help but inhaling with closed eyes. Oranges... It was a scent that he remembered so strongly, so deeply. He would always recognize it.

Ryoma leaned even closer to the source, inhaled more deeply, jolted the long forgotten memories awake and brought them up to the surface of his consciousness. "An orange is always eaten without pealing it beforehand. It makes you stronger and it's easier." Ryoma smiled and couldn't help the chuckle escaping his lips by hearing someone say those words. Who had said them?
The words were the same like his. His male cousin had always eaten the oranges whole without pealing it. As a child, Ryoma had always wondered why his cousin had done it and had one day asked his cousin who had answer with those exact words. Who had spoken and knew those words?

The tone of voice had been deep but still the voice of a young male. Ryoma hadn't recognized the voice. It sounded so foreign. When nobody of the others spoke or said anything else, just stared at him, Ryoma understood it. He understood who had spoken.

He had spoken without knowing it, had spoken with a different voice than he remembered. The voice was harsh and rusty, deeper and less like his male cousin's voice. It wasn't even close to his male cousin's voice anymore, not like it had been before the incident. It had been the biggest resemblance between him and Tsuhiro, his male cousin, and now it was finally gone, had faded away with time, just like the other similarities between them.

What was left was just the teen with the name Ryoma, not the cousin, not the resemblance, not the shadow, not the boy from the past. "Just me."

"Just you?"

"What do you mean, Echizen?"

The hand on his spine moved upwards to his neck, drawing small circles with a thumb over his skin. Was it Tezuka's or Sanada's hand? The pressure of the hand shook him so very carefully but with enough strength to break his journey down to memory lane. Ryoma blinked, clearing the fog and, for the first time after the shower, looked more closely and directly at the others. At his friends.

Could he call them that?
They knew more about him than most people, helped him without anything so far in return, showed interest in him, even if it was somehow in a strange and for him unknown way but it still counted. Would they still be friends with him after hearing his secret?

All eyes were directed at him. He was the center of attention and he didn't know why but his eyes somehow stayed as if glued at the brunette in front of him. Clear and ocean blue eyes gazed back at him, no glimmer or sparkle of amusement visible, only concern.

"Whatever you tells us is fine. We want to help you, nothing else." Fuji's voice was almost inaudibly, his hand reaching out for Ryoma's right cheek and simply stayed there, sending warmth up his skin. If it was the hand's warmth or his own, he couldn't tell.

"Ore-sama is great in keeping secrets." Monkey King announced brightly and full of self-confidence. Yukimura looked ready to transform into his rage-mode as Tezuka and Sanada seemed almost calm while Fuji's expression told Ryoma nearly nothing. Just the tiny bit of flickering in those ocean blue eyes spoke otherwise. It was a look of an even stronger worry, combined with sadness and guilt. Had he ever seen the brunette with such an expression before?

Probably not, due to the ever present mask on Fuji's face. A mask that hid all the important things and emotions which expressed a person's true feelings and thoughts. "He had hid things too..."

Monkey King and the others' attention strode back to him, only Fuji daring to break the once returned silence. "Who?"

Ryoma opened his mouth, ready to reply but something stopped him. Something from inside his consciousness stopped him from spilling the truth.
His heartbeat rose drastically and his breath came out shallowly as no words came out of his mouth. His voice...

He closed his eyes to avoid their gazes. Sudden fear overwhelmed him. Why couldn't he talk?
Did he want to talk?
Now was the last chance to change his mind, to let everything stay as it was. Now was the last time to keep the secret hidden, leave it alone and untouched.

But did he really want that?

Could he endure more years of living like that?

No, he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to endure the fear, the isolation, the risk of exposing too much, the exhaustion of always worrying about saying the right things or nothing at all.
Ryoma grabbed his own hands, pushed his nails into his skin to keep his worry from overflowing.

No, he would not run away. He needed to change things and now was the best and probably only time to do so. He took a deep breath, swallow down his fears and whispered.

"My cousin, Tsuhiro." A shudder ran down his spine and, for just a second, the memory of his cousin appeared before his eyes, giving him goose bumps. He didn't dare to look at them, any of them, but he opened his eyes and fixated his gaze at the trembling cup of tea in his hands. "He and I, we were like twins. Looking, sounding and behaving in very similiar manners if not in the very same way. He was like a brother and best friend for me."

Another deep breath before he forced the next words out in an almost calm but still strange and foreign voice. "Tsukiko was his younger sister. She was always with us, sometimes even confusing us with the other when she was only able to hear our voices…. Because Tsuhiro's and my voice were the same."

Ryoma swallowed, his throat dry and unused from speaking out loud. "Tsuhiro kept things away, even from me. I still don't understand exactly what had caused or pushed him over the edge. He had just changed over the weeks, hugging me more often and telling me to be strong, to take care of Tsukiko and myself, to be brave and smart, to never give up. He apologized a lot too."

He paused, the memory so close at the surface of his consciousness. Another shudder, another lump in his throat which he needed to swallow down before continuing speaking. His eyes stung and blurred. "I hadn't understood back then, hadn't seen the signs. Now I wish I had." His voice turned quieter with each word. "From one day to the other, I found him hanging from an orange tree in my uncle's garden. He had suffocated himself to death. Tsuhiro had killed himself, had left us without any of us knowing the reason, without having a chance to talk and help him. He was just gone within a day."

The taste of salt on his lips let him jolt up unconsciously, showing his face to the other teens. His throat was burning as well as his eyes now which he forced shut to stop the flow of tears streaming down his cheeks. The coldness crept back inside his bones.

The sudden movement from Fuji, taking the cup of tea out of his hands and putting it aside, then hugging him tightly, surprised the hell out of him. The tightening of pressure at his neck as well as the soft strokes on his spine showed him their regards. "I'm very sorry for pressuring you so many times."

How should he react to such an apology?
He wasn't able to speak anymore, his throat already burning and aching from so much speaking after not using it. He was a little bit overwhelmed too.

Therefore, he simply nodded and patted the brunette on his back in recognition and waited for the other teen to let him go. It took a minute or two for Fuji to really let go and return to his seat in front of him. However, Sanada took Fuji's place, leaned forward and looked him directly in the eyes. "May I ask another question, though?"

Ryoma could already guess which question it was. He hadn't explained this part yet and was still scared of doing so. He coughed, kept his focus on the stroking thumb in his neck, the hand running up and down his spine and Fuji's hands on his knees, kneading them lightly. "Tsukiko had overslept that day, so I had found Tsuhiro alone and had called my uncle at work. My uncle came rushing in, hindering Tsukiko from seeing Tsuhiro. At the same day in the evening, I went over again, wanted to take a look at Tsukiko and help my uncle with taking care of her. When she heard my voice at the front door, she thought I was Tsuhiro, not even recognizing me by sight at first."

Ryoma breathe in deeply. "But after I told her who I was, she couldn't stop crying. It went on like this for days, weeks. Every time she heard me speak or saw me, Tsukiko would start crying and not stopping for hours. My uncle couldn't bear it, threw themselves into his work more and more until he asked me for a favor one night. He asked me secretly to stop speaking, to change certain ways of behavior, to cut my hair and change my appearance, so that Tsukiko wouldn't confuse me any longer with Tsuhiro... I did it. I agreed."

More deep breaths, more swallows to ease his throat a bit. "I stopped playing tennis in tournaments, especially those where they wanted to interview the players. I cut my hair and changed my clothes, isolated myself from the rest of my friends. I stopped speaking… and after four months, it worked. Tsukiko recovered. She smiled again after four months of sadness and depressions."

"You gave yourself up to be her anchor, to save her from her depressions." Sanada stated a fact, deep awe clearly audible in his voice. Ryoma shrugged, nodded and shook his head, not really understanding what he wanted to say. His throat just hurt, ached too much and his mind filled fuzzy from all the talking. Was it normal to feel this way after baring one's soul?

The others smiled a little by his uncertain and confused answer before Tezuka explained. "Not many would go so far to help another person. You pushed your own needs and wishes aside for those of another. It shows a lot of courage, selflessness and inner strength." Ryoma shrugged again, his body growing colder, making him shiver more strongly. "Your adrenaline is fading. Here." Tezuka gave him the cup of tea back, letting him take sips from it to warm his body and ease his throat. The hands at his body somehow calmed him, the silence not so thick and tight any longer. Their understanding almost balsam for his soul. They were still here, sitting with him and not leaving him behind, alone.

"Your cousin…. Does she sometimes still think that you're her brother? Is this the reason for her… clinginess?" It was surprisingly Yukimura who had asked. The bluenette had been silent the whole time. Ryoma nodded, emptied the cup of tea. "It explains a lot, at least."

The room grew quieter with each heartbeat, his field of sight growing smaller too. Someone spoke to him, nevertheless, Ryoma didn't understand the words. He could only yawn as the tiredness intensified. His inner self, the sudden lift of the burden on his shoulders to keep the secret hidden…. All of it was suddenly gone. He felt light and tired and free. Without worry. It was a strange but welcoming feeling.

He closed his eyes due to the doziness overwhelming him. It was just a moment, a blink of an eye, a second, a minute…

Someone took the cup from his hands and shook his shoulders carefully. Ryoma would have reacted if he couldn't but he couldn't. The exhaustion was far too big to overcome.

"Isolating himself to keep his secret hidden, always alone with the burden. How lonely must he have been all the time?" That was Fuji's voice, Ryoma was certain, but he couldn't bring his eyes to open. He couldn't move anything. Every muscle felt heavy. His hearing playing a prank on him by steadily growing number.

"It would explain why he is so calm whenever someone sleeps beside him."

"Ah, you mean the feeling of having someone to lean on?"

"Genichirou is right. Someone expecting only solitude would someday break from craving closeness to another person."

"I want to help him."

"Ah, Syusuke, we all will help him. Ore-sama is deeply moved by him."

"Ryoma?" Tezuka's voice came from right next to his ear. The sound was loud and strong enough to divide the fog of sleepiness a bit. Ryoma hummed very quietly in response, hoped the others heard it because he wasn't able to move anything else. "How about going to bed?" His captain asked. He hummed again, even more quieter and felt how someone started to carry him - probably to the bedroom.