Ok, I am so sorry I haven't actually updated for practically three months or something like that, the story's coming to an end soon. It just seems to have stopped moving…Anyway, Chapter Eight is basically on how Atobe feels about Tezuka. I'm still trying to address the question that people have posted in their comments…do bear with it for a while.
The blinding brightness of the sun shone through the open windows, shining mercilessly onto the bed, bathing the room in light and warmth. Fuji woke up feeling something warm and soft against him, and glanced down to see Atobe fast asleep in his arms, breathing gently against his shirt. Gathering his thoughts, the events of the previous night returned to him and Atobe's words echoed in his mind as he gently stroked the dark head lying against him.
"Tezuka"
He uttered the word softly, testing it on his tongue, like a child learning how to speak. The name; it was strangely familiar to hear his own voice saying it, it seemed almost like it was once part of him, he felt something stir from within as he delicately repeated the name once more.
"Tezuka Kunimitsu"
It was so very familiar, yet he simply couldn't remember. His head ached as he tried and Fuji was soon forced to give up.
"Of course it sounds familiar." A voice in his head reminded him. "Atobe said you loved him."
Perhaps he had loved him, but evidently, so had Atobe. Pain pierced his heart as he remembered the anguish in the other man's eyes last night, the despair that had occupied them even as the calm voice recounted the tale.
Something stirred in his arms, grey eyes looked up to meet his own, trusting and innocent for a split second before the memories came back and the shutters slammed shut into place once more. The blank expression barely masked the regret in his features as he gently pushed Fuji aside and stepped firmly into the bathroom, shutting the door with trembling hands.
Once safe in the quiet peace of the bathroom, Atobe leaned against the wall and buried his head in his hands as he felt a massive headache coming along with memories of last night. He could not believe how he had broken down so completely, telling Fuji everything. In fact, he was surprised that the former tensai was still sticking around despite knowing the truth. There was only one explanation; he had not remembered anything.
He didn't know whether that was a misfortune or a blessing. Sometimes, it all felt so wrong, it was just wrong to have Fuji look at him with those beautiful, trusting eyes, filled with care and laughter, not when they should be filled with anger and hatred.
He wished Fuji would hate him, scream at him, or even leave him; perhaps then, his guilt will burden him less. Yet, deep within, he knew that moment will come soon, and he dreaded the time when it will eventually come. The thought of it just seemed too painful, he knew, no matter what he tried to make himself believe, that the guilt will not lessen, it will only multiply.
He couldn't bear the thought of seeing once more, the pain and grief that had been evident in the tensai's eyes those years ago, and hated the thought of being the one who brought about this pain. But he had no choice, it was his mistake, and he hated himself for that.
Sinking down to the ground, Atobe allowed himself to be lost the joyful dreams of the past, dreams fraught with bliss and sorrow, memories he tried so hard to forget, for it was hard to think of the joy without remembering the grief.
"Tezuka"
His lips curved into a bitter smile as he whispered the name, he loved him so much, and perhaps, he still did.
He remembered vividly, the first time they had played, when he had hurt the other youth's arm so badly that he was forced to leave for Germany to obtain treatment. He had felt triumphant initially, but the joy of victory was soon replaced by a disturbing regret and guilt as he saw the determination that the other had for tennis, the unmistakeable passion in the solemn face.
He had tried to make up when Tezuka returned, and found himself more drawn than ever by the furiously determined person that resided within the calm exterior. His fascination with the bespectacled young man grew, and so did his desire to possess him. He knew that Tezuka was dating Fuji and that Fuji had loved the other man truly, for a long time, for he saw the venom in his eyes when he had hurt Tezuka the first time they played.
But he didn't care; what Atobe wanted was what he will get.
He pursued Tezuka with all he had, seducing him and pushing him away alternately, showering surprising care and concern at times yet being cold and unapproachable at others. He won eventually, a clear victory.
The piercing blue eyes were filled with despair and pain; the anger previously present was long gone. He was tired, too tired to be angry anymore, for he knew that he had lost. But he just wanted to know, to know if the man that had hurt him so much still loved him, to know if he had even been loved.
"Tezuka, do you love me? Have you ever loved me?"
The words were spoken in a bare whisper; a whisper filled with pain and fear. He had ceased to regard the presence of Atobe Keigo who was standing nearby, a smug grin on his face. Nothing else mattered anymore, pride, dignity, nothing mattered, All Fuji cared about now, was the words of the man standing before him, the only one he truly loved.
"Fuji."
The uncharacteristically hesitant reply came; Tezuka's voice trembled briefly, pausing before he spoke his next words.
"I'm sorry."
The words were resigned and sorrowful, the unspoken meanings clear and sharp in every word, piercing right through the former Tensai. His heart sang with sorrow as he looked up and stared right into the familiar eyes behind the glasses. His gaze was accusing yet resigned; there was no anger in him. Everything was over.
Beside Tezuka, Atobe took it all in, his insightful eyes seeing clearly the emotions in Fuji's eyes, a sense of victory overwhelmed him. He had won. Tezuka belonged to him now, to no one else but him.
The times they spent together were joyful. Tezuka's serious attitude towards things often amused him, and the tender concern hidden under the calm façade truly touched him. He never allowed the cold mask to fall fully from his face, but Atobe had caught glimpses of the real Tezuka sometimes, had seen the tender love in the unreadable eyes, the concern that made him felt like weeping with joy. The man was flawless, or at least, it seemed so to him.
"He was perfect. And I loved him. "
He had loved Tezuka since the day they met; he had admired the strong determination behind the stern blue eyes, and had tried with all his might to peel off the blank mask that seemed always to cover the beautiful features. Their love had seemed almost like a game of hide and seek, fleeting, invisible yet always present.
Yet, he never really realised how much he loved Tezuka until the day of that accident, the day when he had lost him forever. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he closed his eyes and willed the pain to go away; as he lost himself in the happy memories they once shared. Time and space was forgotten, as all that occupied his mind was Tezuka.
A soft knock at the door broke Atobe's reverie.
"Are you alright?"
The familiar voice of Fuji reached him and guilt seized him as he heard the concern in the words. Standing up suddenly, he realised that he had been in the bathroom for nearly half-an-hour, and it was obvious why Fuji was getting worried. Mustering all his energy, he uttered a weak reply, and proceeded to prepare himself for the day.
Atobe made up his mind, the memories were painful, but Fuji had to know. He had no right anyway, to deprive him of the knowledge of his past, and perhaps it was better that Fuji knew, for Atobe realised deep down, that despite all the pain and sorrow brought about by his love and memories, he was glad that it had once existed, he was glad that he at least had memories, sad or joyful, of the man he loved so much.
The distinct aroma of food reached Atobe as he stepped out of the room; the hesitant smile of the other man greeted him. He smiled agreeably in reply and they set down together for breakfast. Yet, the smiles were but superficial, and for once, an uncomfortable silence settled as they sat eating.
Fuji glanced uncertainly at Atobe even as they ate, he was not sure of what to say or do. He knew how painful last night had been for Atobe, and was reluctant to push him to reveal anything more. Yet, at the same time, the knowledge that he had loved someone so deeply intrigued him.
He simply couldn't imagine it, the love that he supposedly once had for a person whose name and face he could not even recall, it all just seemed so disconnected, especially since Atobe apparently loved the same person.
Yet, that was not what really baffled him, what confused him more than anything else was what Atobe did. He simply refused to believe that Atobe could do anything so cruel and heartless; that he would take the only and only person he truly loved away from him.
Besides, Atobe had never explained what exactly happened that led to the accident, he merely offered a glimpse into cause of his pain, but had never really explained anything. Stealing another glance at Atobe, Fuji guiltily realised that the pain in his eyes was by no means lessened, but instead more pronounced than ever.
But perhaps it no longer mattered. Fuji believed in Atobe, he trusted him. He believed truly, deep down in his heart, that Atobe had been a victim of circumstances; that he had never meant to hurt anyone. He saw the look in the other man's eyes last night, just before they had been filled with tears; deep beneath the grief and guilt, resided fear.
It was a fear that Fuji understood too well, the fear of separation. It was the same fear that had constantly filled his heart, the fear that they will lose their current happiness when he remembers the past, the fear of losing Atobe, the fear of being apart.
If he could turn time back, Fuji wished to return to the point when he had still been blissfully ignorant, to forget what he had been told. But he knew that was impossible, it was simply too late. And perhaps, deep down, he didn't really regret knowing, there was no other choice anyway.
If he could choose again, he could probably have done the same; he couldn't bear the thought of living as a person without a past. Anyway, now that he knew at least something from the past, there was no turning back; the only way to go was forward.
Taking a deep breath, Fuji finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence between them.
"Keigo…I have a question."
His voice was hesitant and guilt-ridden, torn between wanting to get over the painful process of remembering and reluctance at causing Atobe more pain. The other man looked up, his eyes filled with weary resignation.
"Tezuka. Do you have a picture of him?"
Fuji was hardly surprised when Atobe wordlessly stood up and left the table to get the picture, barely nodding in reply. He knew the answer to the question before he even asked, and winced when he saw the sharp flash of grief in Atobe's eyes.
He hated himself for it, and he wished he could make the pain go away. But it was all too late now and all he knew was that he desperately needed to find out more about this person that he had once loved. Even while guilt punished him, he couldn't help but be excited at the prospect of finally seeing when Tezuka looked like. He seemed somehow to have a vague idea in his head, he had a feeling that he would recognise Tezuka the moment he saw the picture.
Atobe finally returned to the table after what seemed like a long time even though it could not be more than a minute since he was gone. He was not holding an album or a frame but his wallet, from which he carefully pulled out a small photo that he reluctantly handed over to Fuji.
As he reached out to take the photo, their eyes met for a moment, and Fuji felt the excitement he had felt slowly seeped out of him. Pain and disappointment filled him as a sense of loss washed over him.
What he had saw in the painfully dark eyes arrested him; the tender look that Atobe had cast at the photo touched and tortured him. Behind the pain, he saw a love so pure and deep that Fuji never knew could exist. He realised then, at that moment, that Atobe had never once loved him; he had cared for him, he had done all he could to make him happy, he had kissed him.
Yet, that was not love, and it will never be, he saw the truth in Atobe's eyes. The only person that Atobe truly loved and will ever love was the man in the photo
"Tezuka"
If you read this, do comment. I'm sorry it turned out so badly, the plot is getting too slow and I know it. But I'll be sure to finish this by the end of October (in three chapters I hope). Hopefully, the next chapter will be better.
Thanks!