Kikumaru Eiji dreamt of ballet. He was thrust into the spotlight abruptly, and forced to wing his way through a complicated dance routine that he had never seen before in his life. Desperate, he flung himself into an acrobatic sequence across the stage. The amazed audience soon warmed to him, cheering and calling out their undying support for him.
"EIJI! EIJI!"
Before he knew it, a series of soft tappings began. Mystified, he twisted around in mid leap, only to see Oishi tap-dancing across the stage. The audience gasped as one, as Oishi tap-danced lithely and vigorously.
And the tappings began to get louder and louder – until he woke up from his slumber, confused and disoriented.
Yawning loudly, Kikumaru Eiji peered blearily into the murky, moonlit darkness and recognised who it was that stood outside his bedroom window. His mind was clouded with sleep, but he retained enough presence of mind to hold the pane in place whilst the slim figure climbed into his room gracefully.
"What time is it?" Eiji yawned, even as Fuji took off his coat and hung it over the back of his chair.
"Hmm…around 2? I'm sorry for waking you up at this hour…"
Fuji bowed slightly, feeling a more than a little awkward and ashamed at his own wilfulness. It was no excuse to take advantage of the goodwill of others, as gracious as they might be over it. Even so, Eiji honestly didn't seem to mind his late night intrusion, smacking Fuji lightly across the back and calling him an idiot.
It was times like these, when Fuji felt blessed to have a friend as giving as Kikumaru Eiji, who accepted him without question. Fuji knew of the redhead's thirst for knowledge, yet Eiji was smarter and more diplomatic than what people had presumed. He knew when to badger endlessly to get the information he wanted, and he also knew when it was wise to leave things be.
"Sleep, now?"
Fuji bit back a smile at the imploring way that Eiji looked at him, his eyes large and questioning, reflecting the small quantities of light in the dark bedroom.
It was adorable and understanding at the same time, and Fuji felt himself breathe for the first time that night, relaxing into the warmth of the embrace. It always felt so real, breathing in the mixed scents of soap, mint toothpaste and the reassuring homeliness of a warm bed. He wondered why he could never let himself believe in this false sense of comfort, yet coming back like an addict for more. He could feel everything so deeply, and yet it all seemed so elusive and fragile.
Fuji couldn't stop himself from trembling, his body shaking with the effort it took for him to hold back from breaking down. The need to escape and stay all at the same time bled through him so strongly, it was like a physical pain that clenched his heart with its well-worn ache.
Eiji pretended to sleep, providing a convenient excuse for him to reach over and hold Fuji closer, his nose buried in his hair. Fuji's breathing was deep and shaky against his neck, and Eiji's heart broke a little to watch his best friend struggle to hold himself together again.
As the night drew on, a quiet, restless sleep stole over them...
And three hours later, dawn began to grace the city.
In routine, Eiji awoke to find his bed vacated, as though Fuji had never stepped foot inside his room. The light at the side of his bed glowed a warm yellow, and balancing on the mobile beside it, was a paper crane that Fuji had folded himself. Eiji knew without checking, that it would have the words 'thank you' in quick, graceful Japanese calligraphy written at the tip of its wing.
Yawning, he headed to the washroom to clean up for school. Fuji and he were best friends because they understood most of what went on between other people, but they knew each other well enough to steer clear away from the private affairs of each other. It was a comfortable relationship that had offered all the benefits of friendship, and it didn't allow them to get weary of knowing each other too well. They did, however,care very deeply about each other and unconditional love didn't need to ask too many questions.
"Fuji. Stay back after class today, I have something to discuss with you."
He had not been bothered even when the rest of the class giggled and stared. Ayaka-sensei was a beautiful teacher, who had captured the eye of much of the male student population, and won the hearts of many other female students who idolised her for the concern she showed to all of them. Fuji couldn't care less, yet he knew that the rumour that made the most rounds, concerned Ayaka-sensei and her favouritism bestowed upon the blue-eyed tensai.
His smile had faded even as he turned back to the window, where the sun hung high above the school campus, blinding out everything in white. Sometimes, he had the strangest feeling that seeing too much, made him afraid to say anything anymore. It wasn't just the daily life of mundane routines that drove him inside himself, nor the tennis challenges that allowed him to rise above himself and to shine with the brilliance that only a true match could bring out in him.
Sometimes he thought that if he closed his eyes and wished hard enough, maybe everything would go away.
"You wished to see me, Sensei?"
The entire class was emptying out at the end of the lesson, with the exception of a few students who were hurriedly packing away their things. Ayaka-sensei was frowning a little, tapping her pen thoughtfully to her brow.
"You must be wondering why I made you stay behind… Well, the truth is, your most recent essay has deviated from your usual style greatly."
Fuji noted the corner of his essay sticking out from below her books. It probably wasn't one of his best works, but he rather liked it, if only for the fact that it was a piece no teacher would pin up on the class boards. It reflected the way in which he thought, and for once, he had not stopped himself from being overly honest in his works. He had hoped though, that Ayaka-sensei would have dismissed it as a macabre one-time attempt. Upon reflection, that wish of his could have just been a little too optimistic.
"…and if I were a butterfly, I would sleep my life away.
How the brilliant colours of the butterflies would remind others of their greying world! As a butterfly, I draw others further and further away from their monochromatic shells until there is nothing between them and the precipice. Will they fall? I watch their indecision until the glass jar takes me away.
It brings me to a garden, where the other butterflies play. I rejoice in their childish delight as they flock to the brightly coloured flowers and their honeyed scents. Yet, inexplicably, I cannot go near them. I know the scent of the flowers by heart; I know their colours as well as I know my own. Somehow I beat my wings against nothing at all.
Why do I fly if I cannot leave at all?"
Ayaka-sensei smiled at him lightly before retrieving his paper. Strangely enough, when he finally saw the marks that marked the top of his paper, they were near the highest grades that he had ever received for an essay. Surprised, Fuji began to question the rationale behind the given grade, but Ayaka-sensei moved to speak before he did, sensing his disbelief.
"I think this has to be the most honest piece of work that you've written for me so far, and to be frank, Ienjoyed the way it was insightful and depressing at the same time."
Fuji could only smile and nod politely in response to her praise.
Inside, he wondered what he had done to deserve such lavish praise. Ayaka-sensei was not only his form teacher, but his mentor as well. She was in charge of grooming those who entered Seigaku's programme for gifted students, and she had been his teacher-mentor for the past year already. For her to praise his works thus was not really uncommon, but Fuji felt a brief stirring of hope that for once someone was able to see past the veiled deception of his words and reach the meaning inside of them.
Sometimes he didn't even know what he was trying to say, sometimes he felt like he reached blindly towards a wall that hid the secrets of his mind away from him. Could anyone unlock what he really was? Extents that even he, did not completely comprehend. Where were his limits? Where was his potential?
"Fuji-kun, is there anything troubling you of late?" she asked abruptly, her large, brown eyes gazing at him in concern.
Honestly, it was becoming a little wearisome, how everyone couldn't seem to hold back from asking that question. Was it really going to help even if he told them anything? Fuji could imagine the look on their faces if he ever told them,
"Well, yes, let's see. I awoke from a coma to realise that my mother's dead. I can't remember anything about the missing time before my accident. My family tells me that I've completely changed even though no one can point out why. My love interest abandoned me even after he swore that he'd – oops, didn't I mention that I was gay? By the way, have you heard of smiling depression? Yes? Well, I suspect that I have that as well, because somehow I can't seem to stop smiling even when it hurts so much. Oh, and I'm kind of suicidal as well. Now what?"
"No, I'm fine, Sensei!" Fuji smiled and bowed just a little lower.
If he was going to keep pretending, he'd do it until his heart broke and he stopped breathing permanently.
"If it's alright with you, I'd like you to enter your essay for Seigaku's annual writing competition…"
Fuji turned when he heard a soft sound at the side of the class. He had thought that he was alone with his thoughts, but apparently Haruka had stayed behind as well. She caught his glance, ducking her head shyly, hiding her eyes behind the long black hair that brushed past the rims of her glasses.
He would not have paid further notice to the shy girl, if she had not spoken up at that moment.
"Ano...Fuji-kun?" she ventured, her voice quiet and uncertain.
The simplicity of her manner and the graciousness of her bearing, was something that Fuji appreciated inwardly. It was a stark contrast from the screaming, rioting chaos that the rest of the girls tended to cause. He wracked his brains for previous memories of her, considering that he barely remembered his classmates.
Fuji smiled encouragingly at her in response, mildly gratified as the slightest tinge of pink grazed her pale cheeks.
"I overheard your conversation with Ayaka-sensei," she confessed haltingly, stumbling over her words slightly in embarrassment. "I just wanted to congratulate you on your essay."
"Thank you, Haruka, but it was nothing much actually," Fuji replied pleasantly. A warning bell rang in his mind when she approached him slowly. Dismissing it as an irrational notion, he pretended to pack his bag even as he waited patiently for her to speak her mind.
"To be honest, I am rather weak in essay writing…" Haruka began. "If it would not trouble you too much, would it be possible for you to tutor me in that subject?"
Fuji hesitated for a moment before his usual smile replaced it.
"Of course, Haruka-san. It would be my honour."
END CHAPTER 3
A/N: I can't even begin to describe how much I want this fic to be an epic. Although it does feel like I'm trying to write The World's Angstiest Fanfiction, but even so, more than anything, I hope that it's good and that my readers enjoy it. To all my reviewers, thank you so much for taking the effort to review! I appreciate it very, very much. :)