Chapter Eighteen
He walked leisurely down the aisle, smiling as he surveyed the colourful displays, watching as mothers pushed their toddles inside the shopping carts and as older children tried their best to cajole their harried mothers into buying more treats.
It was a Wednesday morning, and he was probably the only young man walking around a supermarket, shopping for groceries. It was embarrassing really, the curious glances that he received from the regular shoppers, the crowds of mothers who gathered together to shop daily, but Fuji Syusuke didn't care; he never did.
It had been two months since that night and Fuji had found work as a translator, translating English documents to Japanese or vice versa. He never received any formal training in that area, but grasped it easily with his fluent command of both languages, and worked from the apartment, going put only to shop for groceries or to receive and submit assignments.
It was a leisurely life.
He reflected as he strolled down the huge empty aisle, listening to the idle chatter of the housewives and occasional childish laughter.
It was hardly what he had expected to do one day, his dreams as a teenager had gone further than that, but it was fine with him now. Anyway, his job scope was limited as he had not finished university, and it was probably the best he could do.
His parents were glad to that he had found a job, and they trusted Atobe to take care of him, feeling that they were indebted to him. Even Yumiko seemed to have forgotten her reservations regarding Atobe and was merely thankful for the fact that her brother was happy. The only opposition came in the form of Fuji Yuuta, he opposed Atobe vehemently but he knew too that nothing he said or did could make his brother changed his mind, resorting instead to reluctant acceptance or rather a grudging indifference.
Things between Atobe and him appeared to have return to the time when they had been in England, their relationship was frank and trusting, there were no secrets between them for they shared everything.
At that thought, a tiny guilt pricked at Fuji.
He had merely explained to Atobe that thinking about past events gave him a headache and he saw no point in making them both suffer the agony of those memories. They had each other, and they didn't need that past, for the present was all that mattered. Yet, he conveniently left out the fact that he remembered everything; he remembered the tennis tournaments; the matches he played, his friends, his school life, Tezuka.
He saw no need to mention that to Atobe, he chose to pretend that he had forgotten everything, for he believed firmly that they could only move forward if they left the past behind. His feelings for Tezuka still existed, but they were a past event, detached from the present, belonging to another time and era, the one he loved now was Atobe.
He had completed his shopping, wheeling that cart towards the cashier, he removed his wallet to pay the bill before exiting the store with two huge bags in hand, making his way in the direction of the apartment.
"I'll make you love me too."
He promised himself that as he walked slowly down the streets.
He knew that Atobe still felt for Tezuka, he saw the occasional grief in the dark eyes when they huddled together in the cold nights, the subtle sorrow that entered the dark eyes, the distant smile on his lips even as he held Fuji close.
"Tezuka hated the cold."
It was the first thing that occurred to him as he watched Atobe, for he remembered too well the times they had spent sitting close together at night, his hands wrapped around Tezuka's cold fingers, warming them. He shuddered lightly then, as his heart filled with pain at the thought that Atobe must have knew that too.
But it didn't matter now, Tezuka was gone forever, and he would make Atobe leave the shadows of the past behind.
Turning the key into the lock, he pushed the door open and walked in to place his shopping on the door before turning around to close the door behind him.
Walking into the living room, he noticed that he was not alone in the house; a smile crossed his lips as he walked towards the tall figure on the couch.
"You are…"
His words stopped in mid-breath as he stared at the pale complexion of the man before him, the dark eyes were closed in weariness and his lips were nearly translucent.
"Keigo. Are you sick?"
His voice dropped to a careful whisper, afraid to disturb the man before him.
Atobe opened his eyes slowly, appearing dazed for a moment as he saw Fuji's face hovering close to his own, before a guarded expression crossed his features.
"Kikumaru called me this morning."
He spoke softly; there was no trace of emotions in his words.
Fuji sunk silently down on the couch beside him.
It was not difficult to guess the content of their conversation, Eiji must have knew that he remembered everything, it was not difficult to tell, not after his reaction upon seeing that old photo album.
"You remember everything."
Confirming his thoughts, Atobe spoke once more. It was not a question or an accusation, but a merely statement. His tone suggested that he was speaking about a manner unrelated to him; there was no anger or joy in his voice.
Fuji nodded. He knew there was no point in denying anything.
"I'm sorry."
Atobe's voice was weary when he spoke, yet at the same time, it contained a hint of relief, as if a burden he carried for a long time was had been finally removed.
Fuji looked up in surprise. It was only a moment later that the reason for the apology occurred to him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
"Now that you know everything, I think we shouldn't be together anymore. I've applied for a transfer from the company, I'll be moving back to London. You can continue staying here if you like, I bought the apartment."
Everything was said in a matter-of-fact manner.
"Why?"
It was all he could bring himself to say, he knew the reason, but he wanted to hear it for himself.
Atobe appeared surprised for a brief moment, a flash of pain entered his eyes before he regained his composure and spoke.
"You know everything. I caused Tezuka's death. I brought about your misery. You have every right to hate me, I don't wish to bring you more pain."
It was all said in the same clipped tone, with the slightest stumble over Tezuka's name.
Fuji felt his heart clenched tightly for a brief second before a sudden numbness overcome him, everything begun to appear unreal, he became an audience watching the exchange, slowly analysing each word.
He knew then that his question had been a mistake, a deliberate error that served only to deepen his agony. Atobe's words were not what answered him, rather, it was the pain in the dark eyes that had gave a reply, the eyes that filled visibly with pain as Tezuka's name was mentioned.
"You still love him."
His lips moved but he refused to utter the statement, for he failed the affirmative answer he expected would kill him.
"I see."
He settled for a non-committal answer, his voice becoming toneless and emotionless as well.
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
He paused.
"Take care of yourself."
He added as an afterthought before turning away, moving in the direction of his bedroom.
"Keigo."
A soft voice sounded behind him, stopping him just as he reached for the doorknob.
"Do you love me? Have you ever loved me?"
He spoke calmly, as if merely talking about the weather.
Atobe found himself transported back to the past.
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. When he spoke, his words were a bare whisper; filled with fear and pain.
"Tezuka, do you love me? Have you ever loved me?"
The first time he heard that question had been nearly a decade ago and he never thought it would be directed at him one day. While the pain and despair he saw in the deep blue eyes once filled him with victory, the sorrow he knew must be present now served only to pain him.
"I'm sorry."
He gave the same answer as Tezuka had done so many years ago. Yet, while Tezuka had given it because he had found a person he truly loved for himself, Atobe gave it to protect the one he loved.
Pushing the door open, he walked slowly into the room before closing the door shut behind him.
"Yes."
Sinking into the ground beside the closed door, he buried his head in his arms, the single syllable escaping softly from his lips as the tears began to fall.