A/N: Hello all! Long time no update, and I really apologize, I really am still alive XD, I was stuck in camp with crappy internet connection and there's been technical difficulties all around. I'm just happy it's out. Much love to my betas as always, you guys are the best! Please enjoy!

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VI

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"Syusuke, you're awfully quiet."

It was a soft silky voice that drowsed somewhere above him. Silky hands too, combed through his hair. Fuji kept his eyes closed. He sighed, "Yukimura, about Sanada-sama..."

"What about Genichirou?" Yukimura Seiichi continued to work his hands through Fuji's hair. He was much older than Fuji, but age was kind to him and only his eyes were old and every other part of his body seemed decidedly immortal. He seemed to be on first-name terms with everyone, and everyone loved him; he was gifted in all kinds of love, and he loved and was loved without thought.

Fuji wasn't like that at all, his tongue too sharp, his eyes too bright, lips too tempting, heart too unfaithful. Yukimura was who everyone wanted to become, and Fuji was the closest, yet furthest away.

"You are in love with him, right?"

Yukimura laughed, "Yes, I am, very much."

Fuji looked at Yukimura through the mirror, contentedly brushing his hair. The other wore a dark gray kimono embroidered with black lilies on the edges. Sanada Genichirou liked such dark colors, and because Yukimura loved Sanada-sama so much, he wore those colors. Even if the constant soberness of his attire made him appear sickly.

Yukimura had even gone so far as to give away most of his white kimonos, and Fuji had inherited most of his collection. Fuji wondered vaguely if Tezuka liked white; if Tezuka ever worked up the courage to call again, he would be sure to ask him.

"...Syusuke?"

"I..." Fuji sat up. "...Yukimura, why do you love Sanada-sama?"

Yukimura smiled at him. " 'Because' is something I can't answer. Not because I don't want to, Syusuke, but because I can't. You do not ever love someone for a reason, you just love them. There is no reason. They say love is mad."

Fuji rolled his eyes. "Have you been borrowing books from Oshitari again?"

"No," Yukimura shook his head. "But I'm in love. So I know. I don't need sensational novels to tell me how I'm supposed to feel."

Fuji sighed and lay his head down; it was getting close to four-thirty, Saeki was coming. He didn't dislike Saeki, but he wasn't entirely thrilled to see him either.

"Syusuke, you're not in love, are you?" Yukimura chided him.

Fuji thought of Tezuka, who had cringed at a simple kiss. He had once told Yukimura that he didn't plan on falling in love and he still didn't plan on it, he had done it once before and reaped only sour fruits from it. But then he hadn't planned on Tezuka either.

"It's not a bad thing. Even if you had...what happened before."

And then Yukimura would always stop there; there was an invisible wall between them when it came to that. Seeing as how Fuji still didn't respond, Yukimura changed the subject.

"I'm leaving by the end of the month, Genichirou says he has the house ready for me."

Sanada Genichirou also worked with Atobe Keigo. He was probably a cutthroat businessman in his own right. He probably owned three houses in three different countries and was fabulously wealthy, as everyone affiliated with Atobe Keigo had to be. Yet the few times that Fuji had had the opportunity to meet this Sanada Genichirou, it was always in Yukimura's presence.

In front of Yukimura, Fuji found Sanada-sama to be a mild-mannered man, twisted, if not completely, almost all the way around Yukimura's finger. Sanada had a respectable wife, and an adorable son Fuji had met on one occasion. Yukimura had treated the boy as if he were his own son.

"Yukimura, I think I'm jealous of you," he said, rather forlornly.

The other looked surprised, and then shook his head. "Don't. I'm subjecting myself to a horrible fate. I might even end up like you." But for someone speaking of so dire a fate, Yukimura seemed happy. "I love him, but I'll never be able to love him anywhere in public. He just bought a house by the sea for me, it's small and no one knows about it."

Fuji hesitated, "I don't see how you manage. Loving someone is very traumatizing."

"It is," Yukimura agreed. "But it is also a beautiful thing." He glanced towards the clock and stood. "I should go, it's almost time."

"Can I come by and see you once you leave?"

Yukimura smiled. "Of course you may."

"Will you miss me?"

There was a whisper of a kiss on his forehead. "Of course." Yukimura let himself out.

-

Their sister franchise from Portugal had sent people over; it wasn't much of a meeting, it was mostly just a lot of food and fine Spanish wine and Tezuka was convinced that Atobe had lied to him. It wouldn't be the first time, and it wouldn't be the last time, either.

Yet this was the first time that Tezuka had felt genuinely annoyed by the fact that he had been played so easily by Atobe. This was so obviously a ploy to get him to loosen up and drink. He couldn't help noticing how his glass was always full, and the executive seated to his right had a permanently red face from too much alcohol.

He also couldn't help but notice that he and Atobe were the only senior partners present; Sanada was nowhere to be found and Jiroh, Atobe's promising lackey wasn't there either. But then, Jiroh was probably asleep somewhere and unable to be roused; it was the absence of the former that was surprising.

Atobe showed the rest of the executives out with a too-cheerful smile and closed the doors behind him.

Tezuka stood there looking at him.

Atobe bit his lip. "Is that a new suit? You look good."

"Thank you," Tezuka said. "But my looking nice in a suit I've had for a while doesn't explain anything."

Atobe sighed. "Well, you and I were the only ones that can speak Portuguese, and Sanada's helpless in situations like this. Socializing with people once in a while won't kill you. And might I remind you that you were supposed to come to work anyway."

"I thought ore-sama could do everything."

Atobe looked like Tezuka had socked him good and hard in the stomach. And for a moment there, Tezuka almost wished he had. He left without another word.

-

Saeki-sama only came for one thing, he would never stay long after, yet he'd always come bearing some expensive little trinket. Fuji liked him well enough. But he always stayed still, beneath the covers, pretending to be asleep when Saeki dressed and let himself out.

Saeki-sama's gift to him this time was a bracelet made out of 'real' gold from Thailand. Which made Fuji wonder how many of the trinkets that he had bought before were 'fake' gold from Thailand.

The door clicked shut after Saeki and Fuji groaned slightly as he sat up wrapped in stained sheets and blankets. His body was sated, and his body smelled distinctly of Saeki, who was fond of ginger and vanilla.

He found his phone.

He had no messages, no missed calls.

Fuji realized that he wanted Tezuka. Fuji always got whatever he wanted, and whoever he wanted into bed with him. Yet he had a feeling that winning Tezuka over would be harder than it looked.

Fuji put the phone back down beside him on the pillow, and closed his eyes.

He dozed lightly, half-conscious until he heard a knock on the door.

"Fuji."

Almost everyone called him Syusuke, affectionately, except for Ryuzaki Sumire, and...Tezuka. Fuji almost got his hopes up but then realized that the voice was too deep. Oh, right, Oshitari called him Fuji too. He buried himself deeper in the sheets and inhaled vanilla, ginger and then some.

"Fuji." The voice said.

"The door's unlocked."

The door opened and shut. Fuji heard footsteps and stayed still.

Oshitari Yuushi said, "Fuji, do you want a bath?"

"No, I want to sleep." But still, Fuji rubbed his eyes and sat up. He was naked, but he didn't feel bad. It wasn't the first time that Oshitari had seen him naked, and it wasn't going to be the last time, either.

Oshitari was tall, and when he wore his glasses, Fuji thought he looked like Tezuka. The man wore a simple kimono, and his dark hair was artfully tousled, Oshitari, unlike the child Yukimura, gave off the air that he knew things. Fuji considered himself somewhere between the two extremes.

Oshitari did not have glasses on now. "Fuji, what's wrong?" He approached the bed.

"Nothing is wrong."

"You look pale."

"...Okay, maybe I'm a little sore."

It was a look of pity that Oshitari gave him, and Fuji was too tired to fight him for it. Oshitari picked him up with little effort and walked to the bathroom, where he set Fuji into the glistening tub and turned on the water.

The water was warm, making him shiver all over.

Oshitari took a linen cloth hanging next to a fresh towel and turned a critical eye on Fuji's collection of body lotions settled along one wall. After some thought, he selected one and squeezed a generous amount into the cloth. Fuji watched him from the tub.

The water was up to his chest now, and the steam made his vision slightly foggy. After a moment or two more, Fuji reached to turn off the water.

When Oshitari neared, the cloth smelled of raspberry and honey. That had never been one of his favorite scents, but it was strong, and he didn't want to smell ginger and vanilla. Not when the only person he could think about was Tezuka.

The other man knelt down by the tub, and gave him a look.

Fuji forced a smile on his face, "I'm fine, trust me. Nothing sleep can't fix." And he planned on sleep, lots of it, for a long time.

This seemed to assure Oshitari, who smiled and began to lather lotion all over Fuji's body with the cloth. Fuji leaned against the side of the tub and closed his eyes. He and Oshitari never spoke much, never would, probably because Fuji hated when Oshitari knew exactly what he was thinking.

-

When his naked body hit clean sheets, Fuji opened his eyes abruptly, knowing that he had probably fallen asleep. He opened his eyes to see Oshitari staring down at him.

With practiced fingers, he slid the kimono off of Oshitari's body, and the man let him.

"Stay with me." He murmured into a warm bare chest.

Oshitari settled himself beside Fuji on the bed, wrapped his arms loosely around the boy, breathed in a fresh scent of sharp raspberry and honey...and almost sneezed.

"You will, won't you?"

Whenever Fuji wanted to be held, something was wrong. When he even took Oshitari's kimono off for him, he knew something was wrong. In time Fuji, being the little boy that he was, would always tell him. So he settled for waiting.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep. So go to sleep."

"Promise?"

"Promise." For one who never kept promises, Fuji always did like to make him promise, and because Oshitari loved Fuji after his own strange fashion he indulged the boy.

Though Fuji said nothing after that, he did snuggle a little bit closer , and soon his breathing grew even. It took Oshitari a long time to unwind himself from the boy's grip without waking him, but when he did, Fuji stayed asleep. The boy took too many clients; he hardly had time to sleep. Fuji most likely spent more time naked than clothed. In a world like this, it was something to be proud of.

Oshitari put on his kimono, lacing it loosely. He was about to dim the lamp by Fuji's bed when Fuji's phone rang.

Fuji's phone never rang. This was because, to Oshitari's knowledge, no one knew Fuji's number, and even if they did have his number, you needed nerves of iron to call.

The screen announced: Tezuka Kunimitsu, 5:35 pm.

After a moment of thought, Oshitari realized that he did not know a Tezuka Kunimitsu, and he knew all of Fuji's clients; in fact, he knew a lot of about Fuji, probably more than the boy would have liked him to know.

Oshitari weighed the phone in his hand, looking at the blinking screen and the strange name. And then he smiled and returned the phone to its proper place on the dresser before he let himself out.