Chapter Eleven

Back at the apartment that night, Fuji picked slowly at his food as he observed Atobe over his plate, taking in the troubled look that occupied the dark grey eyes and the slight frown that creased his forehead.

The other man had been silent since they started eating, ignoring all of Fuji's attempts at basic conversation, replying all his questions with short one-word comments, forcing him to give up after a while, and allowing his mind to wander back to the earlier events of the night.

Pushing the small metal key into the lock, Fuji barely had time to turn the key when the wooden door flew open and fell against the wall with a dull thud. Before he could recover his senses, the former tensai found himself pulled into a warm and sudden embrace, his face buried against the soft material of Atobe's sweater.

Yet, the warmth left him as suddenly as it came, for the taller man released him with sudden speed and grabbed his wrists instead.

"Where have you been?"

The gentle comfort of Atobe's embrace was gone, replaced by the cold fingers that curled around his wrists, shaking him savagely as the steely voice demanded an answer.

Fuji stood unmoving, slowing raising his head to meet the dark grey eyes of the man who held him prisoner.

"I…"

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came, instead he shivered suddenly as a cold gust of wind entered through the open door.

Instantly, the steel-like fingers went limp and he felt his hand fall to his side, as the anger of Atobe's face was replaced by sudden embarrassment and guilt.

"Sorry, I… I had no right to treat you like that… "

He trailed off, unsure of what to add, looking at the ground as he spoke.

The former tensai did not reply for a moment, joy flooded through his veins even as hot tears prickedt his eyes. He never realised how much it meant to him, to have someone who cared and thought of him so constantly, he felt somehow that he had betrayed Atobe, by secretly looking for his family, that he had no right to receive any kind of apology from the other, not when he should be the one apologising.

"Thank you. "

He whispered the words softly after a long time, his lips curving into a gentle smile as he looked up into the dark grey eyes.

"Syuuske"

The single word broke his reverie as he looked up from his plate and stared questioningly at a silent Atobe Keigo, who had returned to looking uncertainly at the ground.

"Where did you go today?"

The question remained unchanged, yet the voice that spoke was soft and hesitant, with an air of finality, as if the speaker had put much thought into the few words

Fuji looked away slowly.

"I visited my family."

He spoke after a long pause, his voice soft yet firm, the word "family" feeling strange on his tongue even as he spoke.

Atobe did not reply, but merely sat silently, waiting for him to continue.

"I know I should have told you this, but I just wanted to see them for myself first, I got the address from my medical file…I'm sorry."

He ended the incessant blabbering with a soft apology, longing to explain himself, to find excuses for what he had done, but not knowing what to add at the same time.

"How was it?"

The short question uttered in a barely audible whisper caused him to look up in surprise, his eyes meeting the barely concealed anguish in the dark grey eyes. He could not bear to speak, to tell him that everything went well, that his family embraced him without second thought, for he saw the fear of loss that echoed in the dark eyes, the emptiness and the loneliness that occupied their depths.

"Come with me tomorrow."

It was more a plea than an invitation, a desire to tell Atobe that he will remain a part of his life even after he found his family.

Atobe nodded uncertainly after a moment, unable to reject the silent request in Fuji's eyes, he knew that it would be painful, to submerge himself into a piece of Fuji's past, to place himself where constant reminders of Tezuka would be present. But he had no choice, for he simply could not bear to extinguish the hope that burned in the clear blue eyes, to destroy the happiness that Fuji was slowly finding from the past.

He understood perfectly what Fuji meant to do; he knew that the former tensai believed that by sharing everything and discovering the past together, they would be able to leave the pain of their past behind and stay together. But he knew too that it was not possible, he had once witnessed the hatred in Fuji's eyes, the burning love and pain that had once occupied those depths, and he knew Fuji would never forgive him.

All he could do now was to treasure the time they spend together, to give Fuji as much joy as he could before he spent the rest of his life haunted by the memories of his loss.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Atobe stood up and begun to help clear the dishes as they finished their meal, allowing a comfortable silence to fall between them.

It was nearly noon the next day when the two men left the apartment, making their way towards the car park without a word, where Atobe promptly started the engine of the black sedan.

Staring at the steering wheel for a whole minute, he suddenly broke his previous silence.

"Where is it?"

The voice was polite and controlled, the words uttered in a calm business-like manner.

Fuji looked up in surprise, before handing the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket to the other man, and turning back wordlessly to stare out of the window.

A thousand questions overwhelmed him as he did so, he longed to ask Atobe about their past relationship, to find out what had happened before they fought over Tezuka. He had always assumed that they had once been close friends, but if that were true, then surely, Atobe would know his address.

The question was nearly out of his mouth before he bit it back, he simply could not bring himself to ask more questions about the past now, for he had not missed the fear and anguish that had flashed in Atobe's eyes the previous night, when he had asked him to come along today.

He understood the fear in those eyes, the fear of being submerged in the world of the past once more, the fear losing their current happiness. He was touched that Atobe had agreed; he knew he had no right to ask for even more. In fact, he had no right to ask for anything at all, for Atobe had already given him so much.

Focusing his eyes on the passing scenery outside, he forced himself to leave Atobe alone, even as he resisted the urge to turn around and ask to share the other man's troubles. It was a short journey, and they soon reached the neighbourhood. The familiar place, with the warm and gentle surroundings had a soothing effect on him and his lips slowly curved into a gentle smile at the thought of meeting his family once more.

Turning around to steal a glance at Atobe, he found his smile disappearing, for Atobe's face was a carefully sculpted mask of polite interest even as he concentrated on navigating the roads, his eyes were unreadable, and his mouth was set in a thin line, it was almost as if he was afraid that any sign of emotion might make him more vulnerable than he already was.

As he cast a long look at the other man, Fuji longed to reach over and take the slender hand in his own, to tear down the well-practiced mask, to look into the dark grey eyes and share the pain in them, to share the burden of the past, to tell him that he wasn't alone, and that he will never be. Yet at the same time, he knew better than to approach the emotional barrier Atobe had, he knew he had no right too, for it was his only protection.

Stifling a sigh, he returned turned his eyes back to the passing view of the outside world.