Chapter Sixteen
The cold sunlight shone through the thin curtains and onto the bed, piercing mercilessly through his eyelids and forcing him to wake up.
He sat on the bed for a brief moment, staring uncertainly around the unfamiliar room before the events of the previous night returned to him. The dazed expression in his eyes was replaced by a wistful sorrow as he turned to look at the empty space beside him. Lying down slowly on the other side of the bed, he allowed himself to stay there, trying his best to savage the warmth that once occupied that space.
The events of the previous night wandered back to him as he laid there, the reason for him being in Atobe's room at all.
Yuuta returned yesterday and he brought a friend back with him for dinner, a tall redhead. Fuji remembered him instantly.
"Eiji."
In spite of himself, he smiled as he spoke the name once more, enjoying the familiar taste it left upon his lips. He never thought he could miss anyone so much, not until he finally met Kikumaru Eiji, then the memories came flooding back and he remembered the times they had spent together, playing tennis when they were young, going out together after school, doing each other's homework.
The redhead looked the same, his face remained cheerful and the same smile danced across his lips, his tall athletic figure was unchanged. Yet, when he moved forward to embrace Eiji, he could see the sadness in his friend's eyes, the sorrowful pity that occupied the depths he remembered as permanently sparkling.
He chose not to mention it, allowing himself to be caught up in Eiji's joyful temperament, responding actively to his jokes and joining easily in his laughter, it was as if it was only yesterday that there were still students, the six years of separation appeared to have no effect on their relationship.
In contrast, Fuji Yuuta was quiet and reserved, appearing ill at ease as he looked at his brother, uncertainty and a slight awkwardness clouded his eyes; his manner was polite and slightly foreign.
Dinner was more noisy than usual with Kikumaru's presence, he went beyond making up for Yuuta's silence with his characteristic loud actions, praising Mrs Fuji's cooking loudly and complimenting Fuji Yumiko unabashedly for her ability to look younger by the day.
After dinner, the three young men gathered in Yuuta's room while their father watched television in the living room and Yumiko went to the kitchen to assist her mother with dishes. They were upstairs on Yuuta's insistence that he had something to show them both, the only thing that he had said all evening above the usual polite greetings.
"You lost your memory."
The younger Fuji spoke as soon as he pushed the door shut behind him, his voice questioning and slight accusatory.
The only response he received was a slightly hesitant nod.
"You are living with Atobe now."
His tone became harsher.
Fuji nodded once more as a look of pure horror crossed the face of the redhead who had been previously staring at them with a puzzled expression.
"Atobe Keigo?"
He interrupted before Fuji Yuuta could say another word, his voice hard and angry; a sharp contrast with the cheerful tone from earlier.
He swore under his breath as Fuji nodded calmly once again.
"Do you have any idea what he did?"
His voice was threateningly soft.
"He killed Tezuka and he destroyed your life. The bastard."
He answered his own question before Fuji spoke, anger radiating every syllable.
"And as if that was not enough, he is lying to you now too. "
He continued without pausing.
"I'll kill him."
At the last words, he turned around suddenly, angry hatred in his eyes as he started towards the door, as if heading for the invisible target that was Atobe.
"Stop it."
Fuji Yuuta was at the door suddenly. He placed his hands on Kikumaru's shoulders and pushed him back forcefully, not stopping until the older man was seated on the bed and safely away from the door.
"It happened so long ago, and he took care of you for the last six years. Lets just forget it and not have anything to do with him anymore. You can move back here tomorrow and none of us will have to see him again."
He spoke facing his brother, but his words were directed at the redhead too.
"You can slowly get your memory back at home."
He added as an afterthought, his voice uncertain as he wondered if the past should be remembered at all.
"Its fine. "
It was the first time Fuji spoke since they had entered the room. His voice was calm and peaceful when he said the words, seemingly oblivious to the anger in both his younger brother and his childhood friend.
"Its not."
Kikumaru shouted suddenly. He would have said more if not for the sharp look that Fuji Yuuta cast in his direction.
"You should stay away from Atobe."
His voice was deliberately calm but the troubled look in his eyes was evident.
"I know about it."
He spoke quietly, his eyes lowered, oblivious to the sudden shock that crossed the faces of the other two.
"Keigo told me everything. Its all in the past."
"Its fine."
He repeated the words once more, convincing both himself and them that everything was fine; that the past no longer mattered for the present happiness was more important.
"Keigo."
Kikumaru Eiji repeated the word slowly, his voice barely audible.
He stood up suddenly and walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind him as he made his way toward the room on the opposite end of the landing.
It was the bedroom of Fuji Syusuke.
When he returned, he held a book in his hand, a brown leather-bound book no bigger than a notebook. He placed it carefully on the table beside Fuji before sitting down quietly on the bed once more.
Fuji picked the book up gently, it was an old book, the year was carefully printed on the cover in neat handwriting he recognised as his own, it was nearly a decade old and yet in pristine condition. He flipped it open slowly; it was a photo album, a bright picture of a group of teenagers smiled joyfully at him from the first page.
He recognised every face in the picture, he was in it too, along with Eiji. It was a picture of the Seigaku team, taken right after they had won the national tennis tournament. The joy on every face was evident, the bright, open smiles that reflected youth and energy, they were all happy, Eiji, Echizen, Inui, Oishi, Momoshiro, Kawamura and the last face, the one that wasn't smiling, but the person he knew was happier than all of them.
"Tezuka."
He said the name in his mind, memories of the bespectacled youths surfacing in his mind even as he stared at the unyielding face in the picture, memories that he always knew existed but made no sense at all begun to make sense now.
He remembered the first they met, when they were both first-years students. He had been attracted to Tezuka even then, his calm logical intelligence, his upright and stubborn nature, the passion for tennis that laid below the calm exterior, waiting to be discovered. Tezuka excited him, the strong contrast in their personalities made him want to understand the other; to find for himself the passion and energy below the cold mask.
Tezuka fascinated him right from the start, he never wanted so badly to be friends with anyone, to be seen as someone who could be trusted and relied on. They got on well together; they shared a common love, tennis. Fuji had never cared much about the game before, it was a talent that came naturally to him as so many others did, he played when he wanted to, to enjoy himself, losing or winning meant nothing.
Yet, all that changed when he met Tezuka, he wanted to be his rival somehow, not merely in terms of skills and scores but rather in his love for the game. He wanted to experience for the thrill of loving something, of feeling an all-consuming passion for match.
He succeeded in the end. He grew to love tennis. Yet, he failed too, for he fell for Tezuka more strongly than he did for tennis.
He knew he loved him from the time Tezuka hurt his arm, he knew his feelings for the other went beyond the borders of friendship when he begun to blame Tezuka for risking his health for that game, when he begun to become jealous of Atobe's ability to bring Tezuka's passion to the surface and when he begun to want Tezuka to see him more than as a friend.
He kept silent then, refusing to voice his feelings until the end of their third year, when he could bear it no more.
It was the night after the nationals. The last victory they would celebrate together before they all moved on to different high schools, the last time they would be teammates and schoolmates. It was his last chance.
They all took alcohol that night, Fuji more than anyone else as he tried to give himself the courage to speak. It didn't work, he faltered as soon as he met the other's eyes.
Tezuka sent him home that night, supporting him all they way as he was barely able to stand. They stop at the park on their way back to take a break, sitting down on a bench, with Fuji leaning lightly against the other man. His heart beat faster than usual, and it was due to more than the effects of the alcohol, the closeness of the other made him shivered slightly.
He looked up slowly, taking in the familiar sight of the perfectly sculpted face, allowing his eyes to run over the outline of the thin-rimmed spectacles, travelling over the smooth cheekbones before arriving at the thin red lips. He reached up suddenly, he was unsure of whether it was the effect of the alcohol or merely his own desires refusing to be suppressed any longer. With accurate aim, his lips landed exactly upon the thin red lips and he begun to taste it greedily, taking in the scent he had sought for so long.
To his surprise, Tezuka responded.
That moment, his happiness was complete.
"Fuji."
Kikumaru Eiji's soft voice brought him back to the present, reaching his fingers up to his cheeks, he realised that the cold wetness on it came from his eyes. His tears fell silently even as he stared at the photo, the memories more vivid than ever.
"I'm fine."
He tone left no room for argument.
"Its late. I should go."
Wiping his face carefully, he removed all hints of his tears before heading downstairs to bid farewell to his parents, giving an excuse about having an appointment the next day to explain his early departure.
In less than half-an-hour, he was sitting in a cab and on his way home.
His mind was in a state of distress.
He remembered the past; he remembered it clearly. Tezuka's love and his subsequent betrayal, Atobe's actions, Tezuka's death, they all came back to him.
Yet, he felt none of the emotions that he knew he was supposed to feel.
His memory of the past remained distant to him; it was a story with a brilliant plot but no real feelings. He saw it from a foreign perspective, as if he was part of the audience in a cinema screening his life. He wept then, when he remembered Tezuka, but it was merely because his heart was captured by the pure love they once shared.
The feelings of the past were gone, and he knew they would never return. When he attempted to think about Atobe's betrayal, all he could remember was the gentle touch of the other man and his warm comforting hold, the hatred was insignificant to him, it no longer mattered.
He knew the person he now loved was Atobe.
"I love you."
He repeated the words softly to himself, suddenly aware that he was still lying on Atobe's bed, the place where he had fallen asleep crying while waiting for Atobe to return the previous night, waiting for Atobe to return so that he could confess his feelings.
But it didn't matter really.
There was no need for him to say anything.
He loved Atobe, and that was enough.