title: a thousand points of light
word count: 2, 802
summary: On this sleepless night, find me because I'm thinking the same thoughts you are. I'm scared, too. A champion one-shot to "clear the path"

a thousand points of light

Oishi waited with Eiji for as long as he could, his cellphone ringing on and off, chiming like a bell. It was only on his insistence did Oishi leave, promising to call him later that night.

Momoshiro was head of the clean-up committee and after that glorious, irreplaceable golden afternoon, the tennis courts were a complete and total mess, the after effects of a war raged in water, soda, rice, and anything else the team could lay their hands on. Whipped cream dripped from the chain-link fences and popcorn and crushed potato chips cracked under the weight of footsteps.

Even from this far away, he could hear Momoshiro's booming voice, the sound of the hoses as the underclassmen scurried the courts with a spray of water, the shrill scrap-scrap-scrap of brooms scrubbing furiously at the pavement and the surrounding tracks that circled the fenced-in courts.

When Tezuka passed Eiji, Tezuka could only shake his head, trying hard not to smile at the memory of the first time the end-of-the-year banquet ended in complete chaos, refusing even to return Eiji's enthusiastic farewell. There were still bits of rice sticking to the back of Tezuka's head and Eiji could only hold his stomach in laughter, imagining a hungry bird flying by to peck at the Buchou's head.

He waited, outlasting them all. Kaidoh walked by, trying to hide his eyes, streaked red ("Ne, ne, Kaidoh, you cryin' or sumthing?" "NO! Someone threw pepper at me") and Takashi walked off, arm in arm with his father. The afternoon was fading and the only light from Seigaku came from the principal's office, where all the graduation speakers gathered for rehearsal.

Since it was the last time he could do this, he didn't mind waiting, amusing himself the best way he knew how. He was sitting on the edge of the curb, kicking a crushed soda can high up into the air. His bare torso shone with the reflection of the golden sun, his shirt, sticky with soda and dirty with thrown food, was thrown like a towel over his left shoulder.

He heard the footsteps first and lifted his face, his smile already warm and inviting. "Ne, ne, Yumi-dono, Fuji's coming. I just saw Class 5's speaker walk by"

"I don't mind waiting."

Yumiko caught the soda can before it struck her face, pushing aside her bangs with one hand. He noticed she was wearing Toga's class ring on a thin silver chain and smiled again.

"Wow, you really DO like Toga-nii don't you?"
"Quiet, Eiji."

After that, they sat in silence, her eyes peering to Eiji's whistling self, his smile never disappearing from his face. The streetlamps turned on, pockets of brilliant, fluorescent light that could not match the glow of the setting sun. She cleared her throat once, twice, swatting at the gnats that floated like thoughts around her head.

"So I guess Syusuke told you."
"Yep."

She waited for a reaction, anything that would show Eiji's disapproval. Instead, Eiji stood, flexing his hands high over his head.

"It'll be good, nya."

He turned to her, tears slipping to fall lightly against the ground but the same warmth never disappearing from his smile, his cat-like eyes. His tears spattered the ground lightly like a summer's rain and Yumiko could feel the whole essence of him, she could even smell him, the green scent of Eiji, kissed with the sun.

"Fuji was the best student in English, Yumi-dono. He'll be fine in London."

She smiled, holding Eiji's shaking shoulder against her body, feeling for the first time what Toga must feel everyday – this almost compulsive need to shelter Eiji from things that would hurt him, things that'll change him until what was good, green and whole in him became dust, coated in pain.

"He'll be fine anywhere he goes, nya."

And Yumiko whispered a secret that she promised never to tell, "He's not going, Eiji."

"Why?"

"He got accepted but he couldn't – he wouldn't leave Yuuta behind –" And she paused to let Eiji go, holding him an arm-width's away from herself so he could stare into her face, her eyes as teary as Eiji's own.

"-Or you and the rest of Seigaku either."
--

This was the first time in a while that Yuuta got so angry that he left the dinner table, overturning his chair in his haste to stomp his way upstairs. She stared back and forth between Yuuta's abandoned dinner to Syusuke's drawn face as Yumiko burst into tears, crying quietly into her napkin. When the door slammed, their mother stood, her eyes firm. She turned to look at Syusuke, shaking her head and wordlessly followed Yuuta out the door.

And when Yumiko composed herself enough to gather up the dinner plates, her trembling hands dropped a cup, the falling glass catching the reflection of Syusuke's eyes before scattering into a thousand points of light.

She left too, murmuring something about catching both Oka-san and Yuuta with the car, and he was finally left alone, burying his face in his upturned hands.

The glass remained broken across the clean dining room floor, tiny fragments of crystal clear splinters of frozen light crunching under the weight of his slippered feet.
--

"Can you just –"
"LET GO!"

"Please."

She bowed her head, her eyes, (not crying, not in pain, just empty, empty shadows, empty light), staring into his face. "Pushing him away –"

He grabbed onto her shoulders, drawing her frail body close to his own. His breaths were shallow, shallower than the vortex of space that is needed to surround stars, making sure they set the sky on fire. Shallower than the rocks that line the river, letting water flow where it should go.

Coughing, she held onto his hand, fingers as long and slender as his own. "-You can't make him go away by force."

And she hugged him, underneath that lamplight that shone like the sun but had no warmth. "Yuuta. Syusuke. My poor, poor boys."
--

What happened was that his fist connected to the side of Fuji's, sending the slender boy sprawling across the staircase, one hand still clutching to the sleeve of his jacket. He could only look down at Fuji's lying body, the spittle that dripped slowly from the side of his brother's face.

And in a voice that mirrored the sternness of his father's, Yuuta grinded his teeth together and spoke, "You have to go to London."

"YUUTA!" At the foot of the stairs, his sister held onto his mother's elbow, trying to stop the shaking of her old shoulders, her frail bones. "Stop, stop –"

Fingers curled and then cupped his cheek that was sore, that was patched with red, the impact of Yuuta's anger. "Yuu-chan - "

"Are you that tired of living in my shadow?"

With a cry, Yuuta grabbed a hold of Fuji's collar, his eyes wide open and for the first time, streaming with tears. "Don't you understand anything?"

And his hands slipped from Fuji's collar to circle on his neck, pulling his brother close. It was the first time in years he freely gave a hug, seeking Fuji's shoulder to press against his blurry eyes, to lean his burning forehead against. With a shaking hand, Fuji reached out to gently stroke Yuuta's head, his fingers just glazing past Yuuta's cross-shaped scar.

"Please, please go and be with Otou-san."
--

He couldn't sleep. It didn't happen often, but tonight, he couldn't do it. The house was silent and there wasn't even a breaking of shadow as he swung his feet over the side of his bed and pulled on sneakers. Tiptoeing across the floor, he grabbed a hoodie, jamming his head through before throwing open the window.

The night air was sweet and with a running start, he jumped out of his room and into the backyard.

When he ran, he could taste the metallic taste of the stars. Nothing else moved but his legs, moving on their own accord, to a place he knew he had to be.

Waiting there, on this sleepless night where no shadows could be broken, on top of the curvy slide next to the swings, waiting and waiting, would be his answer.
--

"I knew you'll come."

He approached the playground just like a cat would, just feet first setting into the dim circle of light the streetlamp made, and then his hands, slim torso, his red-brown hair and then the whole of him.

"I knew you'll be waiting, nya."

He took the hand Fuji offered, pulling himself up to where Fuji sat, knees pressed against his chest, eyes open and swallowing the night sky. He reached out to where a red flower/scar blossomed on Fuji's clear cheek, his fingertips lightly pressing against Fuji's face, "Yuuta hit you, huh?"

"He's angry at me." Fuji recoiled from Eiji's touch, shifting over to give Eiji more space to sit on the top of the slide. "I don't blame him."

Eiji's feet lightly kicked at the slide, the dull thud of his heel striking metal echoing in the space between their thoughts and the omnipotent stars. He was starting to feel lighthearted from the darkness, the type that surrounds and then suffocates.

"Ne, ne, Fuji, why aren't you –"

"Because this is my home, Eiji." Fuji lifted his eyes, the stars just exploding and glaringly bright against the haze of the night. "I don't need to go."

"That's a lie." His hand around Fuji's elbow was so tight that Fuji had to lower his glance to stare into Eiji's upturned face. The intensity there matched the same level of concentration he had when he was playing tennis, a dedication to remain utterly focused and unforgiving. "Your father's sick, Fuji."

"I know."

"That's why Yuuta hit you." Eiji let his grip on Fuji go, his fingers falling to gently press against the wooden platform of the slide. He stopped kicking, his feet hovering slightly in the air. "Because you can go when he can't."

"I wasn't serious when I applied to Harrow."
"But that was before your father got sick right? Right, Fuji?"

And then Eiji jumped up, stretching his arms high over his head. "Why don't you want to go?"

"I told you, I -"

"I won't hit you but –" His knuckles rapped lightly against Fuji's head before he straightened up, one hand on his waist, "-there's other ways I've got in making you tell me, nya!"

The first time they met, out by the swings, next to the slide, Fuji had ran away from home because he made Yuuta cry again, smashing (quite by accident) one of his brother's prized toys; a wooden duck that opened and closed it beak with a tug of string. Even back then, Fuji hating to see his little brother in pain, all because of something Fuji did, accident or not. He ran, wiping away at tears to the one place he knew his mother could find him if she wanted to; the playground.

And sitting on the edge of the slide, kicking his feet in the air as he cried was Eiji, wiping at the snot running from his nose with the back of his hand. Eiji and Fuji looked at each other then, caught in the same web of childish frustration and tears and when Fuji asked why he was crying, Eiji sniffed and said his brother, Toga, broke his favorite toy.

They were more alike, Fuji thought, then even they realized. What love he had for Eiji reflected the love he had for Yuuta; in his mind, they were all brothers, growing up and trying to figure out what life was doing to them, and why.

Yuuta hit him. Eiji would not. But in both of their eyes, there was a light that shone with pain. It hurt, to reveal the whole of yourself, only to be rejected again and again.

"Ne, ne, Fuji, what's wrong, nya?"

It hurt, not telling anyone.

For the first time all night, the air seemed to lose its frightening hold. He lowered his face to lean against his knees, and in the space between the curve of his legs and his curled body, he opened his mouth. And he told.
--

When he glanced up at his dark home, only Yuuta's light was on, one square of light that screamed out painfully into the night. He turned to look at Eiji, who smiled at him. And then he walked slowly to his house, unlocking the front door. He walked inside alone, his bare feet making no sound.
--

"Syusuke?"

He clutched the wrist of his left hand, holding his arms locked together as if to protect him. His back was straight, his eyes startling blue under the fluorescent light of Yuuta's lamp.

Watching his brother standing outside his room, outlined in the darkness of the hallway, Yuuta slowly let the book he was reading slip from his grip, falling from the edge of his bed to land, with a dull thud, on his floor.

"You –"

"What's wrong, Aniki?"

"You have to help me, Yuuta." His bare feet and long legs seemed to glide over the dim light of Yuuta's room, avoiding the piles of discarded clothes, Yuuta's schoolbooks, his tennis bag and guitar case. When Fuji sat at the foot of Yuuta's unmade bed, he was so light that he barely made an indent, his hands already reaching up to cover his face.

"What's wrong?" Yuuta's voice rose in anger, and for the first time, Fuji realized what it meant to let his younger brother see him in his most unsure, faltering moments. This was the ultimate show of trust; letting Yuuta see his vulnerability, his doubt, letting Yuuta for just a few brief minutes, protect him and not the other way around. "Aniki! What happened?"

"I can't – I'm scared." Their shadows crept along the wall like fingers clutching at the empty spaces between. The gap between them was invisible as Fuji grabbed a hold of Yuuta's offered hand. It was as if they were kids again, crying because one brother broke the toy of the other, ice-cream was too expensive and Mom wouldn't let them go to the movies. He held onto his brother's hand, remembering how simple life was back then, when family was family with no shadows, no complications, no explanations.

"I'm scared that he'll know I hate him." The grip on his hand hurt, but just this once, Yuuta won't complain. He stared into his brother's face, the tears that hugged the corner of his eyes, the weight of his anger, years and years old. "I hate him, Yuuta."

"Why, Syusuke?"

"I'll hate Otou-san for leaving you." And here Fuji started crying, freely, his tears falling against Yuuta's palms, onto the floor of Yuuta's bedroom like rain, like stars scattering into the void of space. "-For leaving Oka-san and Yumiko."

"He didn't have to go, he didn't have to break our home, Yuuta. And I hate him for it."

And though he spoke only about Yuuta, their sister and their mom, Yuuta heard in the fractured way his brother spoke, that Syusuke was asking the same question Yuuta often heard him muttered through the wall, during those late nights when Syusuke thought no one else was listening, or even awake to pay witness to his pain. In between Yuuta's spoken words, Yuuta could smell, hear and taste Syusuke's fear.

"You're –" Yuuta stood, his back turned to his brother so he would not see his tears slipping, falling to scatter across the floor just like Fuji's own. "You're not like Otou-san. When you go to London, you're not breaking anything –"

And Yuuta turned then, smiling, "You're fixing it, like how my big brother fixes everything."
--

Yumiko pressed the back of her palm to stop from crying out loud, her tears falling as quickly as her brothers' own. She clutched at her throat, moved by the beauty of her brothers' words to each other, the beauty of life when everything was simple.

And when she walked to the window to get a breath of fresh air, she saw him watching for the street below, outlined in the eggshell pink of the raising sun.

Eiji Kikumaru stood there, arms crossed, face lit in a calm, serene smile, as if he was waiting for Syusuke to get out of the house, waiting so they could walk to school, together. He stood there, arms crossed, watching the sky and the fading stars, the thousand points of light merging into one glorious sunrise.

When she smiled, he waved in return.

Yumiko turned from Yuuta's open door, walking down the steps to open the front door, letting the morning in, letting Eiji know that everything, somehow, will be alright.
--

Author's notes: I usually don't say this, but I'm really, really pleased with how this chapter turned out. Happy Valentine's Day! It also happens to be my brother's birthday and I couldn't help but with a Fuji/Yuuta/Eiji centered fic.