disclaimer: ilay claimto nothing but the plot. :D


All the Tears in the World

All he could remember before he was swallowed by deep midnight blackness was that he had been running. Running away as if his life depended on it, running towards nowhere. He remembered that he could not really see, and that he could not really feel the ground. Just that his chest felt like it was being torn apart form the exertion, or maybe it was because his heart was aching. But he could not really tell. He did remember one thing though. That he was cold, so terribly cold no matter how much he ran.

He wished he never stopped running.


Marui found Niou collapsed on the footpath just outside of the hospital, breath ragged and shallow, eyes empty as they stared straight at the ground. He lay still on the ground, the only movements being the occasional blink and the irregular rise and fall of his chest.

Like a fish that stayed out of water for too long, gasping and struggling for air that it would not be able to inhale anyway. Dying a slow but sure and painful death.

Marui carefully gathered the limp body into his arms. He watched as the boy flinch instinctively at first touch, then relax into the familiar embrace like a wounded little animal burrowing into soft earth. Niou was shaking violently and his skin felt cold to Marui's touch, but his face remained blank. The redhead felt his heart go out to the silver-haired boy nestled in his arms; he understood all too well what the other boy was going through. He brushed tenderly at Niou's brow that was drenched in sweat.

"You alright, Niou? Niou?" Marui's voice was feather soft as he shook the other boy gently. Niou seemed to stir a little. "Hey, wake up now. Or Sanada's gonna make you run a thousand laps," he teased tenderly, remembering a joke they shared, and shook the boy a little harder.

Then he thought he heard Niou say something. "What is it, Niou? Niou?"

"Cold…"

A single word like the whisper of the lightest breeze; the breeze that came before a storm.

Wordlessly Marui hugged the ragged Niou to his chest. It had been too long, too long now. It was only a matter of time before this happened; Niou had kept it all in for too long. Had kept it all to himself, even when the two of them were together. Marui wondered if anyone else knew how gentle and kind Niou was. But how would they know, if they were not there to see how Niou would swallow his own pain just so that he could take all of his?

How would they know, if they were not there to see how Niou would choke down his own tears just to catch all his tears as they fell?

"Niou, you silly goose…" Marui trailed off as his voice became engulfed in silent sobs that he did not realize were building up in him. Suddenly overwhelmed, Marui buried his face in the other boy's silver locks.

Niou…

They stayed this way a very long time.

Niou. Come back…

A very, very long time.

"Ma… Marui?"

The redhead snapped around to see his teammates right behind him. To see Jackal right behind him. The wind seemed to have picked up because Jackal had started to shiver as he felt a coldness rake through his bones.

"Jackal…" he started weakly, "I…"

His arms tightened around Niou silently; he had nothing to say as he watched Jackal disappear down the street.


He did not know how he made it home; he did not care. It did not matter. Nothing about himself ever mattered to him. All that mattered had been taken away from him. He had nothing now, nothing that mattered now. He had said goodbye and it was all over. Now. Wasn't it?

Seiichi… It's all over, Seiichi.

It had been almost a week and he thought the pain had ebbed away into a dull presence in the back of his mind. So he went to see him, to put an end to everything. He thought wrong. Every second he was in that room was death itself. Dying, over and over again, reminded of what he could have had and what he would never have now.

Sanada crumpled soundlessly to the floor, arms clutched tightly around himself. He should be crying now, but he could not. His tears were all used up now.

Standing before Yukimura, the pain had slammed back in full force. Like a scab, broken once again, hurting more than it used to, blood running like it would never stop. Could never stop. Running and running, never pausing.

He thought he died the day he saw Akaya with Yukimura, but he was wrong. Again. Because it hurt too much to be death; death could not have burnt and scorched so much. Because if he had died then he would not have died again and again today. Because death would have been much more merciful.

Sanada knew then, that his heart had never died. Would never die as long as Yukimura still lived; he just wished that it did. He curled himself up, tight, wishing fervently that he could disappear, wishing he could at least cry like everybody else.

They said that crying would make you feel better because it was an outlet for your emotions. But it was with a new realization that Sanada got into bed that night fully dressed.

It was just as well that he had no more tears to cry, because all the tears in the world could not help him now.


Yukimura swatted at the syringe vehemently. "I said I don't need one! I'm fine! Just… Just leave me alone!"

"No. You need to calm down, kid. Be still." The doctor motioned for the nurses to pin the hysterical boy to the bed so that he could be sedated properly. "This is for you own good, Yukimura-kun; you know your body won't be able to withstand it."

Then he felt the needle pierce his skin and he thought he could feel the sedative course through his bloodstream as well. The effect did not kick in until a long time later, after the doctor and his nurses were long gone.

Yukimura wished it never took any effect.

He did not want to be calm, because that meant having to feel all that he felt a few hours ago all over again. Being calm meant having time to think about what happened, and he did not want that. He did not want to have to think about what happened. Or why it happened.

He wanted to remain angry. He wanted to let it all burn, and burn, and burn. He wanted to forget that it had happened, wanted to forget why it happened.

But this.

This was what he deserved, but that didn't mean he had to accept it. He did not want to accept it.

"Genichirou!" he cried in anguish as clutched the gerberas to his chest. He was trembling now, and tears kept falling from his eyes. Falling and falling, never stopping, like they could never stop.

They said tears could heal, but every drop that fell broke him just a little more.

His whole world was falling apart about him, and he was falling apart with it.

It was only when Sanada left that he had returned to his senses, and by then it was too late; Sanada was gone. Forever. And forever was a very long time. If there was anything Yukimura was ever sure of, it was this: he would never live a day knowing Sanada would be gone for as long as forever.

An anguished gasp escaped him as he crushed the gerberas against himself. And his tears continued to fall, draining him, breaking him.

He had lost control then, after Sanada was gone, throwing things about himself, breaking them, destroying them. Cakes and gifts and flowers; anything and everything that suggested what had happened had not been a dream. Yet with every crash his heart broke a little more and cried a little more.

And his world crashed a little more.

The scent of the crushed blossoms filled the room.

When the hospital staff rushed in, he knew he delirious and out of control. He knew because he was stepping on broken shards of glass and porcelain and he didn't feel the pain. Because the whole world was turning, spinning , faster and faster, but he was the only one who felt it.

People said tears were meant to heal; they were all liars.


"Jackal." Yanagi reached to place a comforting hand on the said boy's shoulder. Jackal flinched at the touch.

"Go home, Renji; leave me alone," Jackal breathed, refusing to turn to face his friend for fear the latter would see the wetness in his eyes. "Please."

"I will not leave you when you're in this state. You stayed with me the last time; it's only fair that I do the same for you." Quiet resolution rang in the Master's voice. Jackal felt his resolve weaken.

"Our homes are in different directions. I don't want to trouble you," he whispered. But the wind picked up and stole away his words. "See you tomorrow, Renji." He started to walk down the street when he felt Yanagi's other hand rest on his other shoulder. He could feel the warmth of Renji's hands through his uniform; Renji's hands had always been warm, and comforting.

"It's okay to cry, Jackal, if you feel like it."

So Jackal leaned into the touch and cried, and felt safe; he could trust Renji like Renji could trust him.

Slowly, Yanagi lowered his head and rested his forehead against the top of Jackal's head; he would be here for as long as Jackal needed him.

Standing a little away from the two of them, Yagyuu watched. He did not how he should be feeling right now. Whether it was towards Marui and Niou, or Jackal. So he stood there and watched silently. Heck, he did not even know how he was feeling himself.

Things were happening too soon, too fast. He no longer knew anything, he was no longer sure of anything. Was it a good thing? Was it bad? How should he be feeling now, what should he be doing now? The Yagyuu in the past would have known exactly what to do, what to think, what to feel. But Niou had taken away all that used to be him, stripped him of all reason and logic, and forgotten to return them. And he had not bothered to ask for them either. The past him was gone, and the new him was still too young, too vulnerable to know how to deal.

So he stood and watched.

He had never meant to hurt Niou; he never realized he did. He thought he was giving Niou space. Because Niou had always lived by his own rules, his own pace; he did not want to be a bother to Niou. The possibility of an alternative never occurred to him. Should it have? If he had acted differently would things have been different? But he was a History student, and in History there were no would-bes and could-bes.

What was down in history could never be changed with maybes and perhaps.

Suddenly seized with an inexplicable faintness, Yagyuu tried to reach for the wall for support as he sank to the ground. It was strange, this feeling of weakness. As if all his strength had been sucked out of him and he could no longer bear to even stand.

"What is wrong with me?" he breathed softly to himself. Strange, how his breath seemed warmer than usual. Almost feverish, he would say.

Then there were footsteps but he was too tired, too drained, to look up.

"Yanagi-senpai…" Akaya stood unnaturally still as he watched Jackal turned to pull Renji into an embrace.

Yagyuu could not see the younger boy's face, but the shaking fists, bloodless from the tight clench, were enough. "Akaya…" he began weakly, "it's not what you think it is…"

"Whatever; like I'd care." Akaya started to turn around the corner. "He may do whatever he likes. His choice; it's none of my business," he said levelly as he paused to look in their direction again. "Not anymore."

"Akaya…"

"You need to rest, Yagyuu-senpai. You look worn out. Go home soon."

Yagyuu watched as his kohai disappeared around the corner. He behaved so normally that anyone would be fooled. Anyone who did not see the marks that his tears made as they fell to the ground.

Those dark spots on the ground that would either evaporate into the air or be absorbed into the concrete soon. And then all incriminating evidence would be gone.

"He's right. I should go home now. There's practice early tomorrow…" Yagyuu got to his feet shakily. After a last glance at his teammates he started towards his home.

He thought it was funny how his vision had started to blur. But then again, it may just be the unnatural exhaustion that had crept up on him. And so he dismissed it as such.

But that was only because he had not seen the trail of dark spots he left behind him. The trail that would soon be lost in the coming rain.


Akaya slumped against the wall when he was sure that he was far enough from his senpai-tachi. What had he just seen? When he realized that Sanada fukubuchou had stayed with Yukimura buchou when they left, he had hung around to wait. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, just that he was waiting.

He waited long enough to see Sanada burst out of the ward with his cap lowered so much over his face one could barely make out his features. Long enough to see Sanada rub aggressively at his eyes as he collapsed against Yukimura's door.

Much like he was doing now.

"Crap… I can't see now. Damn it." Yet the more he rubbed at his eyes, the more he ceased to see. The tears just kept welling up. "I… I can't cry. I won't, damn it!"

Akaya first learnt not to cry to protect himself, but he truly stopped crying because of Yanagi-senpai. He had no reason to stop now, when his only reason not to was gone. So they continued to fall, those cursed tears that he hated so much for so long. Yet it burnt so much, hurt so much, to see Yanagi-senpai caring for someone else so tenderly. Too much. So much so that he could not keep his tears away like he used to.

And they kept falling. And falling.

Somewhere in the distance lightning struck, and Akaya started running.


When Niou woke up, he was already home, in his bed. He could not remember much of what happened, nor did he really want to remember. He raised his hands to rub tiredly at his eyes, and they felt wet. So he had been crying.

Still was.

He wondered if he had a bad dream like he used to as a child; he used to have nightmares when he was younger and would wake up crying. Except that this was one bad dream he would never wake up from, because in the past he would stop crying the moment he woke up. But this time his tears kept falling, running down his face, his neck, into his ears and onto the bed.

Tears were falling and he didn't know how to stop.

Slowly, he fell once again into a troubled sleep.


Outside, it was raining hard. The occasional lightning flashed across the sky accompanied by deafening thunder. The wind was merciless as it tore through the town, ripping away at trees and banging at windows.

The storm had come; they lied when they said tears could heal.


A/N: Oh my... How absolutely depressing... sigh. This must be one of the most depressing chapters in this fic. Really. And the funny thing is that my inspiration came when I was reading... Ouran High School Host Club! haha. Inspirations do come from strange places, ne? But then, this is only a transition chapter so there isn't much obvious advancement from the previous chapter. There will be more action next chapter, I promise. However, I may take a little longer for the next chapter because inpiration for my other fic just came to me and I'm itching to work on that. I even had the ending planned out... hehz. It was a hard choice because I really liked all the pairings I originally planed out. haha. Anyway, just a side note. The title of my other fic, Loving the Way You do came form My Way of Loving You, which I had originally wanted to put down as the title of this fic, then later the title of a chapter in this fic. But I ended up refining it and using for my other fic instead. hehez. Somehow, I found that it fit other fic much much better. :D. Anyway, that is all I have to say this time. Ja ne!

ps. I can't believe I actually finished it this early! At 11 pm! Amazing...