Tezuka was seriously worried.

The past week had passed without incident, and Fuji's family was accustomed to having him spend the night. His father had even taken him aside, to remark on how much happier Syuusuke seemed to be around him, and how his smile appeared more frequently these days. Tezuka knew that things were not perfect between them, and he was anxious, knowing that Syuusuke was still being bullied in his class. But Fuji had his pride, and Tezuka would only know how good or bad things had been, from the small signs in his behaviour.

Whenever it had been an especially bad day, Fuji talked more, almost tripping his own words as he chattered anxiously about anything that happened to cross his mind. He talked more, and avoided looking at Tezuka directly. Tezuka dreaded even more, the way Fuji curled up and buried his head in his arms. He didn't even not cry, but those blue eyes that regarded him were so sad. They were dead inside, devoid of everything but a sick tiredness at heart, and Tezuka never understood why Fuji was slowly falling apart inside, when nothing catastrophic was happening.

The strain placed on himself to take care of the other boy was immense, in terms of both physical and emotional burdens. He didn't mind, as he loved Fuji intensely, but despite the best of his efforts, things seemed to be getting worse. Fuji was retreating closer into himself, and to make things worse, he had begun to sleepwalk. Tezuka had attempted to wake Fuji on the few occasions where it had occurred, but nothing seemed to break the somnambulist spell the other boy was caught under.

It had scared him the first time he had opened his eyes, and seen Fuji sitting emotionlessly by the side of the bed. He had not responded to any of his calls, and Tezuka had watched him quietly fold and unfold a letter, his eyes blind and unseeing as he slowly stood up and placed the envelope on the topmost shelf of his open closet. Tezuka had attempted to bring it up to Fuji before, but the other boy had always laughed it off and declared good naturedly that Tezuka must have been dreaming. He had been tempted to read over Fuji's shoulder on occasion, after catching sight of a name written at the back of the envelope, but his belief in privacy and respect in relationships held fast. After all, someone else's love letter was meant only for his beloved's eyes.

That night, Tezuka stayed awake and waited.

-

Fuji opened his eyes to see Tezuka sitting beside him, holding a still alarm clock in his hands.

"You were sleepwalking again last night."

"What?"

"You were talking in your sleep. You simply stood there, in front of your closet, before taking out a letter and staring at it. I called you numerous times but you didn't wake up, until the alarm clock started ringing."

Fuji blinked and tried to think, feeling the hairs rising at the back of his neck. Tezuka's eyes were bewildered and caring, and he didn't seem to understand what terrified him so deeply. How had he awakened to find his world looking just the same, and knowing that it had changed somehow, in an indescribable fashion? As far as he understood, he had never kept any letters in his possession. He had never sleepwalked, and from what Tezuka had said, that night had occurred before. Perhaps many, many times before. How often had he stood silently, alone, in front of his closet and waited in the darkness?

"What…what letters are you talking about?"

"You wouldn't let them go, even when I tried to take them and lead you back to bed," Tezuka said dryly, pointing in the direction of his closet.

"I saw you take them from the top shelf inside."

Fuji bit his tongue and waited for his panic to subside. He had never placed any of his personal belongings inside the closet, apart from his clothes. The top shelf had been empty for as long as he knew, and there was no way that he could not have remembered any letter that he had received, and further, placed it in the one place which he had developed an abnormal phobia towards.

His hands were shaking slightly as he turned towards his closet, reaching upwards and feeling about the dusty wooden shelf until his fingers brushed against the unexpected sensation of smooth paper envelopes. Tezuka seemed content to give him his privacy, even as he turned away to fold the sheets neatly back onto the bed.

"Dearest Syuusuke,

By the time that you read this letter, I would have died…and you will know that it was all because of you. I would not have been forced to this stage, if it hadn't been for you. I will slit my wrists tomorrow night, and I wish that you would be there to see it. I wish to see everything unfold, but I would rather drown my love for you in blood.

I want you to remember me for the rest of your life.

I love you.

Kaito"

There wasn't much that he could have said. Fuji was fixated on the letter, and he couldn't stop the tears from falling silently. He was so terrified that he couldn't think to utter a word, or even scream. There wasn't a way he could bring himself to say the words that must have been true. How had he been obsessively reading a suicide letter for the past few years, and yet never even seen the letter clutched in his hand?

"Who's it by?" Tezuka asked curiously, his back turned to him.

"…it's a letter from my ex-boyfriend."

"At least he did love you once," Tezuka said gently.

That was about the time he lost it.

-

Fuji had ceased crying in a matter of minutes, and had simply curled up in bed and gazed at the opposing wall in stark incomprehension. It had taken Tezuka the better part of an hour to hold him and stop him from shaking so badly. The feeling of violation was so strong, that Fuji had rushed to the toilet to throw up repeatedly. Even then, he was left feeling so sick and terrified and cold, that Tezuka had forced him to stay home, insisting on staying by his side until the panic subsided.

From what Tezuka had said, he could have had been staring at the suicide note of his boyfriend for the past years, and had never even registered his death in his mind. And all the letters addressed to him, all the pieces of the past he never knew he lost, faded yellow in the closet shelves he had never touched.

Why? Why couldn't he remember what he had done, why didn't he remember receiving any of the letters? He had been crying and obsessively digging out each of the letters that lay undiscovered at the top shelf of his cupboard, and he didn't remember half the letters that he received. Had he truly forgotten so much of their shared past? Had he somehow skipped the part where his lover had killed himself over him? His hands sustained multiple paper cuts, crushing each flimsy page in his trembling hands as he read and re-read each word until Tezuka pulled him away and forced him to calm down.

"I don't understand why they're here, why they turned up after all this time, and why they're here, why they have to be - here - of all places…"

"Why? Tell me what's wrong."

Tezuka felt an unexpected chill run down his back, when Fuji turned towards him, his eyes simultaneously dead and scared.

"Because I threw them all away before."

-

They sat on the swings, letting the golden and red colours of autumn swirl past. The wind lifted Fuji's hair slightly, as he scrutinised his ice cream cone and licked all the errant drops that made their way down the side of the wafer. He was in a thoughtful mood, and Tezuka's determined rationality in the face of the bizarre lent strength to him. Perhaps there was a logical explanation for everything. Several possibilities had been racing through his mind, and he was steadfastly picking through all of them.

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Tezuka muttered, frowning down at his ice cream.

Fuji had to smile when he sneaked a sidelong glance at Tezuka. He had never thought he'd see the day when Tezuka was actually willing to sit on the swings and eat ice cream. It was a shame he had completely forgotten to bring his camera with him; after all, opportunities like this didn't show up every day.

"Well. Perhaps Yumiko-neesan saw the letter and chucked it somewhere. After all, his name was written at the back, and she never did approve of my choice in guys."

"Count yourself lucky that she even approves of you liking guys in the first place," Tezuka said dryly, picturing the shocked expressions on his traditional grandparent's faces when they learnt that their only grandson played for the other team.

"It must be your charm," Fuji teased, his eyes sliding into familiar crescents as he poked at Tezuka's arm until the captain rolled his eyes and batted him away gently.

Fuji stared down at his hands quietly, letting his ice cream drip away into the grass. When he had spoken to Tezuka earlier, the other boy was taken aback before settling on a look of mild resignation. Somehow it rankled inside him, and when Tezuka had suggested that they take a walk to calm themselves down, the suspicion he had felt was pushed aside by the shock that had possessed him at that time.

"Na, Kunimitsu, do you believe me?"

Tezuka had hesitated before asking him what that meant. Fuji ate the rest of his ice cream, feeling the icy sweetness and crispy cone shards stick in his throat.

"It's alright. I know it's difficult to believe. I wouldn't even believe myself, if I had been the one listening to me."

"It is better to consider all the options, Syuusuke. As you said, you threw away all the previous letters. I don't see how they could have returned to your closet again, unless you simply put them away and forgot about it."

"I didn't. Honestly, I wouldn't forget and I didn't," Fuji stated coldly, slightly hurt by Tezuka's pragmatism.

"Well, there might be another reason for it, like your sister for example."

"…I know, but I don't think it's her. I don't think it's her at all."

Fuji buried his face in his hands as his shoulders shook silently as he cried, overwhelmed by his fear and sadness that simply wouldn't go away. His first love had died and there were nights when he had dreamt of his tawny-haired boyfriend dying in front of his eyes and now, Kaito had killed himself and he didn't want Tezuka to go the same way. He had dreamt of better times in the past where they were together, and they were happy and no one could separate them from each other. Now, he had Tezuka, but he still felt like someone was missing. It was a gap that could not be breached any longer. The distance between them was so incredibly far, Tezuka didn't believe him and he didn't believe himself, and he was slowly going insane.

END CHAPTER