Author's Note: There will be fifteen chapters in this story, guys, and the last one will be an epilogue. I can't thank you enough for reading and I'd like reviews, if you have a moment to spare. All of you subscribers…I see you….thank you as well. After completion of this story I will be embarking on a new Prince of Tennis fic and I truly hope you will read it. Some M content in this one…

Chapter Twelve: Mockingbird

"But remember, it's a sin to kill a mockingbird." – Atticus Finch

The dawn came swiftly. Eiji wasn't overly familiar with the dawn, as his code of morals strictly forbade rising at such an ungodly hour, but Fuji had woken him.

Rather unceremoniously too. Stupid bastard. Was the cold water really necessary?

When Eiji voiced the last part out loud, he received nothing in response but a wry smile.

"I hate you, Fuji." Flat lined the red head, climbing out of his messy, unmade bed. "I swear to god I do."

"Mh-hm." Mumbled the tensai, stifling a chuckle and extending a hand. Eiji took it grudgingly, taking care to stick out his tongue. Fuji stood by the open window, school uniform already on and not a hair out of place. His fathomless blue eyes were open ever so slightly and the pale moonlight bathed him in an ethereal glow.

Eiji sighed. There was no helping it. He was too lovely, too beyond words. He ensnared everyone he touched and Eiji was no exception.

"Why did you wake me, asshole?"

"No reason in particular," the prodigy responded noncommittally, "I just felt like being with you."

"You couldn't have waited until the sun was up to 'be with me'?" growled Eiji, running a hand through his wild red mane. "And you couldn't have found a nicer way of waking me up?"

Fuji shrugged, smile widening. "I tried waking you before. I whispered in your ear, I shook you, I even violated you but you never-,"

"Shut up, Fuji."

A soft chuckle slipped past rosy lips. "I'm sorry, Eiji. Do you forgive me?"

"Mo…you're really mean to me, Fujiko. I don't know if I should." quipped the acrobat, winding himself into Fuji's arms. The tensai pulled him closer and Eiji let the back of his head rest of the shorter boy's chest.

Eiji shivered as a feather soft kiss was placed against his jawbone.

"Please, my darling Eiji? I think I'd die without you."

"You aren't helping your case."

Fuji's muffled laughter rippled against Eiji's neck, making his knees buckle ever so slightly.

And the two of them stayed like that, without moving, two boys content with the sound of each other's breathing and the steady thrum of each other's heart beat until the sun peaked over the clouds.

They did not discuss the impending strife and unavoidable confrontation that both of them were sure to face in the future. There was no need too. It hung over them like an unshakable fog waiting to break over them.

Eiji pressed himself deeper into Fuji's chest.

Hold on. No matter what, as long as Fuji is with you…just hold on.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Through the wind

And the rain

He stands hard as a stone

In a world that he can't rise above

Oishi hated sunsets. Oishi hated very few things, but sunsets and his father were definitely at the top of his list. His father was a fairly simple explanation- the man was racist, sexist, and homophobic. Oishi Sr. hid behind his Bible and his bottle, smacking around the misses and the little golden boy if he dared so much as make a squeak in protest.

Of course, Oishi was too old for the senseless beatings now- and he'd grown strong and muscular from tennis. Oishi doubted if his father would risk a fight with him anyway. As soon as he'd been big enough, Oishi had sworn to protect his mother, who as far as he could tell, was the closest thing God had given him to an angel.

But there was another reason Oishi hated his father.

Every day, every moment of his life, that man was always looking at him- with red, watery eyes hidden behind wire rimmed glasses that offered the guise of respectability. And then he'd say it, the cursed word, quickly and viciously, as if to desperate to get the word off his tongue.

"Faggot."

It chilled Oishi to the bone. His father always said it with such complete revulsion…it was enough to make anyone think that to be one of the damned was…was just about the most evil thing anyone could do. As a child, even when he was too young to understand the word's meaning, it would still reduce him to tears.

"I'm not!" he'd scream, running into his mother's arms. "Tell him I'm not Mama! Tell him I'm not!"

"You just love running around with that little boyfriend of yours. I see the way you look at him."

"No! Mama, tell him it isn't true! Tell him! Mama please!"

Oishi shook his head. No, no. There was no time for remembering now. He stared hard at his computer screen, willing his term paper to write itself. Alas, the screen remained blank. The setting sun cast a reddish glow over everything and the base of the Golden Pair shot up and crossed the room in no time flat. He yanked at the pale blue curtains impatiently and the room went dark. He breathed a sigh of relief.

If there was anything he hated more than his father, it was sunsets.

Never mind what the rest of the world thought- that sunsets were beautiful and romantic, symbolic of peace and light or some shit.

Oishi knew the truth.

With every setting sun, something that had once been was lost. Be it a precious moment or a human life, something was always sacrificed to pay the piper. And Oishi just knew that one day he'd wake up and it would all be gone…everything would just vanish because of that goddamn sunset.

The bright blue light of the computer screen was all that remained to cast shadows in the room. An unmade bed, a dresser littered with photos, a desk covered in unopened books…that was what the light revealed.

Oishi's olive green eyes flitted across the room, taking in it. So this is what he had to show for fifteen years of life. A few trophies, some badly hidden Playboy magazines planted in a futile attempt to deny his sexuality.

But mostly it was the pictures. And mostly, it was the pictures of Eiji. Eiji sleeping, Eiji eating, Eiji smiling that carefree bright eyed smile that made Oishi wish to God that he were a woman, so that the love he felt wouldn't be so very wrong. Eiji laughing and flashing a peace sign at the camera, a lanky arm slung around Oishi's shoulder.

And then there was Oishi's favorite. The photograph was taken right after the two of them had lost a match. Eiji's dark eyes were downcast and sad, but a gentle smile played across the red head's mouth. His hands were clasped in front of his heart, almost as if he were in prayer.

Aside from the picture, Oishi had never again seen that look on Eiji's face. He didn't know if he wanted to.

The screen flickered and Oishi was broken out of his reverie. That term paper wasn't going to write itself. He plopped down in his chair, fighting the urge to switch the screen off and sink into bed. It had been a long, hellish Tuesday. Practice had been…interesting, to say the least.

Everyone was on speaking terms again. Everyone laughed and joked, cursed and mocked, just as they always had. It was as if the past few months had never existed. The teams were back in place and Eiji was his partner again. The red head winked and joked and smiled. He didn't touch him…Eiji never once made a move to so much as pat Oishi on the back. And so Oishi knew better. Everything was not alright in paradise.

He was not blind. He saw the brief hesitation in everyone's movements; saw the quick, irritated glances that Tezuka shot Fuji every time the tensai leaned down to whisper something in Ryoma's ear. He could hear Momoshiro's voice waver as he playfully told the two of them to get a room. He saw all of this. And he knew that however mended things may be, the cracks would always show through.

And Eiji still had not answered his question. Oishi had not pushed the matter, he had not even mentioned it, but it weighed on his heart.

The unanswered "I love you…"…so this is what it felt like. Oishi grimaced, pressing his face into the keyboard. Tears pricked at the back of his eyelids, but he stopped them. He'd done enough crying these past few weeks to last a lifetime. Maybe two.

Eiji's face popped into his mind, and he remembered their forbidden tryst in the locker room with startling clarity. He remembered what Eiji's sweet breath had felt like against his neck, what those lithe fingers had ignited in his as they played against his tanned chest…a soft gasp slipped between Oishi's suddenly clenched teeth.

The blood rushed southwards before he had a chance to protest.

Just the memory of Eiji's head lowering downward, able hands dragging down the zipper, soft, warm mouth pressing…

"Ah…God…" hissed Oishi, unable to stifle the lust that rushed through him. The inseam on his pants became insufferably tight. The mere thought of Eiji's pink little tongue dancing across his most sensitive spots…was maddening. Oishi knew it was wrong, to be driven to such passion by another boy. By his best friend. He knew that if he let his hands reach for his member and caress it as he wanted to; imagining Eiji's hands there instead of his, then his father would have been right about him.

He knew this.

But, like so many times before, he did not stop. He couldn't.

And so he let his head roll back and his tongue loll out of his mouth. He let his hands trace along his inner thigh, slowly at first, and then he seized his manhood, pumping with his fist. His breath came in ragged gasps. He pumped harder, faster, more desperately. His careful rhythm soon became erratic with need.

He could not stop the groans that slipped between his clenched teeth.

"God, ah…yes…oh, God, oh…ah, ah…oh, God…"

His back arched and he had to keep himself from screaming to the top of his lungs. His climax was approaching, he could feel it. The chair legs skidded as he slipped from his chair, still pumping furiously, heart ready to fly out of his chest.

"Eiji…" he groaned, and that was it, the utterance of the name was all it took.

He exploded, collapsing in a heap on his floor, hand sticky and wet, face flushed beyond recognition.

"Eiji…" he whispered, coming down from his bliss. He ran a still wet hand across his lips. "My Eiji…say yes…please…say yes…"

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Fuji, you have exactly five seconds to give me back my phone." Growled Ryoma, wiping the sweat off his brow with his left hand. Practice had been brutal, they all had to make up for lost time, and Ryoma was more than a little rusty. His body was less than thrilled at being put back to work.

"Not a chance." Hummed the tensai gleefully, placid smile in place. The older boy was barely sweating. "I told you I've got to make a call."

"Use your own damn phone!" snapped Ryoma, making a grab for it, but failing miserably. Fuji's smile widened.

"My, my, Ryo-chan. No need to get your panties in a twist. I'll only be a moment."

Irritation pricked at Ryoma like the sun on his already over heated skin. "Don't call me that!"

Ever since Monday evening, Fuji had given up all pretenses. No one had said anything. There had been no passionate declaration of love from either of them. It was simply an unspoken truth. Lunches now were spent between the three of them- Eiji, Ryoma, and Fuji. They would sit always beneath the big oak tree in the field, where no one could see or hear them. Sometimes Momoshiro would join them.

Every day, Fuji walked Ryoma home. Every day, Fuji kissed Ryoma dizzy and left him standing on his doorstep, head spinning and heart thudding out of his chest.

Nothing needed to be said.

Ryoma was happy. His fears and doubts were still there, yes, but they lay dormant inside of him. And despite the fact that he'd never asked the questions he'd wanted to before, it didn't seem to matter now. It was okay like this.

Well, at this particular moment, it was just downright annoying.

"I mean it Fuji! I've got to get home; I don't have time for this!"

"That's precisely why I'm calling your parents. I can't let you go just yet." Fuji's slim eyebrows were practically twitching with amusement.

Ryoma's flush extended from his face to his neck. "If you call my house I will murder you. I'm serious, asshole."

Fuji clucked his tongue, taking an effortless step backwards, out of punching range. They were standing in front of the school gates and their little tiff was starting to draw attention.

"I'll just be a moment." Repeated Fuji, punching a button on Ryoma's new, slim black cell phone. Ryoma turned scarlet. He only had two people on speed dial- his parents and Fuji. That meant….

"Hello, Mrs. Echizen? This is Syusuke Fuji. From Ryoma-kun's school, yes."

"FUJI!" cried Ryoma, the full horror of the situation slowly dawning on him. Fuji was on the phone with his mother. Nothing good could possibly come of this.

"I'm sorry to be so presumptuous, but Ryoma wanted me to ask you. I understand it's a school night but I was wondering if he could sleep over at my house this evening. It's a team thing you see…"

Ryoma stumbled forward blindly, anger blotting out all other emotions. "It's Wednesday night, asshole." He hissed, making another swipe for the phone. Fuji held Ryoma back with his free hand, clearly struggling to hold back his laughter.

"Yes, of course, Mrs. Echizen. My parents would be more than happy to have him. It's no trouble, no, none at all. It's my pleasure in fact. Of course, Mrs. Echizen. Thanks again. Good evening to you too."

With a quick snap, Fuji flipped the phone shut. His brilliant smile indicated his triumph.

Ryoma's golden eyes narrowed to slits. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." Quipped the tensai innocently. "I simply rectified a mistake. You see," his clear voice dropped to a whisper as his free hand wound around Ryoma's waist, pulling him closer. Ryoma felt the breath leave him a quick gasp. The familiar smell of sweet lemon filled his nostrils. "There's no way in the world you should ever be allowed to leave my sight. Especially not when there is such an obvious need for a joint shower."

Ryoma's flush deepened. "Fuji…" he choked out. "There are people watching." He instantly forgot his anger.

Fuji's blue eyes drifted open and the feeble protest died on his tongue.

"So?" he whispered, slipping Ryoma's cell phone into its rightful owner's back pocket. Ryoma shivered.

"So…we can't. I don't want them to see."

"Are you afraid?" Fuji's tone had turned teasing and his warm breath tickled Ryoma's ear.

"No," snapped Ryoma, pulling away harshly. He tried not to be betray just how much it hurt him to deprive himself of skin on skin contact. "I'm not afraid. But I see I will have to be wise enough for both of us."

Fuji's eyes gleamed mischievously. "You are going to pay for that comment when we get home."

"Home?" breathed Ryoma, again forgetting his anger, forgetting everything but how soft Fuji's lips looked under the waning light.

"Yes," affirmed the tensai. His blue eyes were gentle. "Home."

Ryoma hesitated. "But…what about Eiji? We should wait for him."

Fuji chuckled softly. "Fret not, Ryoma dear. Eiji will be along shortly. He has some business to attend to first."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Here I stand alone

With this weight upon my heart

And it will not go away

In my head I keep on looking back

Right back to the start

Wondering what it was that made you change

He waited. Patiently, at first, but then the anxiety came. Eiji pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. Six thirty. Oishi had promised to come exactly at six thirty. And, if Eiji knew Oishi, and he did, he knew that Oishi was never late.

So that left one option. He'd decided not to come. Eiji clenched his fist, hard, until the blood drained from it and his skin turned bone white.

"He said he'd come." He assured himself, bouncing on his heels. The old shed behind him cast a great shadow over his slight frame.

It was an ironic place to meet, this old abandoned shed overlooking the city. It was where they'd had their first real conversation. It was where the friendship had started. And now, it was here that it would either change or be thrown away completely. Either way, everything would be different.

Either way, there was no going back.

"Eiji?" Oishi's voice was hesitant. "Is that you?"

The red head ignored his thudding heart and forced himself to grin. He stepped out of the shadows, trying desperately to look as if he were at ease.

"The one and only. I was starting to think you'd bailed."

Oishi offered a shaky, wry smile in response. "As if I could ever stand you up."

Eiji very tactfully chose not to comment on that.

"So…" he drawled, running a hand through his tangled, sweat damp locks. "It's pretty out, isn't it?"

Oishi frowned slightly, olive eyes expressing clear confusion. "I suppose," he said carefully, closing the distance between them in three deft steps. Eiji had to resist the urge to take a step back.

"It's a repeat, I know." continued Eiji, struggling to find words- any words at all- for the swirling mass of pandemonium inside of him. "We always come to this same spot. We've been doing it for years. But I think the sunset's just as pretty as the first time we ever saw it."

Oishi's frown deepened. "Eiji…I…"

"It's funny, isn't it?" babbled Eiji, grabbing the ledge of the roof and hauling himself up. He landed with a soft thud. "How some things never change?"

Oishi looked up at him with wide, uncomprehending doe eyes. After a moment of silence, the taller boy swung himself up in one fluid motion. There they say, side by side, as they had sat so many times before.

The city in all its glory glistened below them, the tops of the buildings sparkling like diamonds underneath the orange light.

It really was lovely.

Oishi sighed, softly, just loud enough for Eiji to hear.

"What is it?" the acrobat's voice had dropped to a whisper.

"I'm just wishing." responded Oishi, drawing his knees to his chest. He rested his head on them, and allowed his long, dark eyelashes to flutter softly.

"Wishing for what?" Eiji turned his body so that he was facing his best friend, fully. His heart seemed to rise out of his chest. There was nothing left, just a gaping emptiness that made the world seem all the brighter.

Oishi looked at him, straight in the eye, olive eyes filled with a warmth so tender it nearly reduced Eiji to tears.

"Wishing I'd never hurt you." He said, in a ghost of a whisper. "Wising I'd never said all of those awful things to you. Wishing I hadn't been stupid enough to throw it all away. Wishing I'd never even bothered to pretend that I haven't loved you since the day I first saw you."

Eiji's voice left him. He could only stare.

Oishi swallowed, hard, and then placed a tentative hand on Eiji's knee. "I love you. I know after what I've done, I have no right to say that. But you must believe me. I think of you every waking moment. I dream of you at night. And when I close my eyes, all I see is your face. You torment me, Eiji. You are my light. You are my addiction. You are…my all."

Oh my God…Oh, my sweet, sweet Jesus…this is impossible. Oishi can't…Oishi can't really…love me…not the way I love him…not the way I have always loved him…

Oishi fell silent and turned his face away. His cheeks were flushed a heinous shade of red, and he looked on the verge of tears. It was clear that Oishi had spent many days and nights wrestling with that confession.

"I…" croaked Eiji, shaking from head to toe. "You really…you really love me?"

Oishi's answer was to move, so quickly that even Eiji's eyes could barely follow, and pin the red head beneath him. Eiji could feel Oishi's rippled washboard chest through his sweat soaked shirt.

Dark, wide eyes met pleading green.

"Yes." He whispered. "I do. Say yes, Eiji. Say yes and I swear to you, I will give you the world. I'll give you everything."

Eiji felt his heart return to him then, surprisingly calm. Clear even. In that one moment, the emotions inside of him stilled. He knew now what he had to do.

It had been there all along.

"Oishi," he whispered. "Please let me sit up. Just for a moment. There's something I need to say."

Oishi sat up at once, eyes wide, at rapt attention. Eiji pressed his clammy hand against Oishi's round, boyish face.

"Oishi…" Eiji was surprised to hear his voice crack and break. "You know I love you right?"

His counterpart nodded, olive eyes dancing with pure joy, mouth curling in triumph. He opened his mouth to speak, but Eiji pressed his finger against it.

"I always will." He continued, unable to stop the tears that threatened to fall. "Always. Do you understand that?"

Oishi nodded softly.

Eiji removed his finger and replaced it with his lips. Oishi froze for a split second, and then responded in kind. Oishi's tongue was ravenous; it burst through Eiji's defenses and swept the caverns on his mouth.

Soft groans permeated the air, and Eiji could not keep track of who was moaning and who was all but whimpering.

Strong hands gripped the small of his back and Eiji let himself be pulled down, on top of his team mate. Eiji felt a hard bulge rub against his bare knee.

"Ah…" he whispered, pulling his mouth away with difficulty. Oishi's eyes snapped open, clouded with impatience and lust.

"What's wrong?" he croaked, reaching up to drag Eiji back down.

"No." whispered Eiji. "I can't." His heart broke and mended and broke again when the words left his mouth. And he knew them to be true. "It's too late, Oishi."

True, genuine fear filled Oishi's face and he blanched a deathly white. "What?"

Eiji sat up and Oishi followed suit. The two of them looked at each other for a long time.

There were no words. But as they started into each other's eyes, everything was said.

"You don't love me anymore?" whispered Oishi, covering his face with his hands.

Eiji could not look at him. "I just told you I did." He joked, tears trickling down his face. "Don't you listen? That's your problem Oishi." His voice cracked. "You don't listen."

There was no response.

"It's just…not the right time for us, Oishi." he whispered softly, looking out on the horizon. "Maybe one day it will be. I hope…I hope it will be."

Oishi still did not remove his face from his hands. Silently, Eiji leaned over and pressed his lips against Oishi's forehead.

"I will always be your friend." He mumbled into the kiss, fighting to contain the torrent of tears that had been unleashed. "Your very best friend, Oishi. Forever."

And then he swung down from the ledge and took off at a run, down the hill and towards the city.

He didn't look back.

He couldn't.

There was nothing left to break.

Well I tried but I had to draw the line

And still this question keeps on spinning in my mind…

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Fuji didn't need to ask. It was one of his many gifts- he seemed to have all but perfected the art of tacit communication. He did not need words. His eyes, his smile, the exact pressure of his touch….it was usually enough.

And so when Eiji crept into the house an hour after he'd already arrived, face as blank as a corpse, Fuji did not need to ask what had happened.

To be very honest, Fuji had known how it would end. How it had to end. Most likely even before Eiji himself had.

Fuji knew that Eiji loved Oishi. And Fuji knew that Oishi loved Eiji. And Fuji also knew that love was not always enough. He knew that in time, Eiji would move on and love again.

Time healed everything. Or so wise men said. Fuji had never really believed that. He'd had too much proof to the contrary.

Tezuka had been his best friend. And now the two of them could barely look at each other. Not because they truly hated each other. Simply because there was too much that had never been said.

And most likely, mused Fuji, as he wordlessly enveloped Eiji in his arms, never would be.

Ryoma sat in the corner of the living room, clutching a glass of milk and looking upon the two of them with clear pity. The younger boy's eyes were bright and alert with concern.

Fuji released Eiji and looked him for a long moment. "I made cobbler." He said, without any kind of inflection.

The red head offered up a weak smile. "My favorite. You knew, then."

Fuji nodded. Eiji laughed dryly. "I assume you also have ice cream?"

"No," piped up Ryoma, and he looked almost sheepish. His eyes slid away from Eiji's like a child caught at thieving. "I…kind of…ate it…"

Eiji looked at the dark haired prodigy, incredulous. "You ate all of it?"

Ryoma nodded, scratching the back of his head and licking the remainder off his lips.

"Sorry…"

There was a split second of silence, and then Eiji burst into laughter.

"Ochibi, you are such a child!"

"I am not!" protested Ryoma, bottom lip extending in a slight pout.

Fuji stepped back and watched, silent and thoughtful. He allowed his two most precious people to argue back and forth, wondering, as he often did, how he had come to be so fortunate.

And, as he so often did, he was unable to find an answer. Fuji couldn't help but think that karma had been far too kind to him. He couldn't help but think after all his sins, after all his selfish games, that happiness could not simply be delivered on a silver platter, all tied up in a bow.

But then Ryoma's round little face turned in his direction, golden eyes bright and dazzling, signature half smile on his lips.

And Fuji ceased to care.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"I love him, Kaidoh." Momoshiro whispered brokenly, burying his head in the crook of his elbow. "I thought as long as he was happy, I'd be okay. I thought…I didn't think I was so selfish."

"You aren't selfish." Countered the viper firmly, hand resting on his rival's shoulder. "You're one of the most selfless people I know."

"I am at your house, at one am on a school night, keeping you from sleep."

Kaidoh shrugged. "I'm your rival. I can't have you falling apart on me. Consider it part of the deal."

Momoshiro laughed softly, but it soon morphed into a ragged sob. "I don't know what to do. I always thought that one day he'd see how much I…that one day…"

"Momoshiro," interrupted Kaidoh gently. "Let me explain something to you before I put you to bed. No arguing, you're going to bed…you look fit to keel over. But let me just say this…" the viper took a deep breath.

"Love is not a victory march."

A dry, weak smile sprung to the purple eyed boys lips.

"It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah."

There was a pause, and then they both laughed. This time Momoshiro did not sob.

"And here I thought you were going to say something serious."

Kaidoh grunted. "I was serious. Now go to bed. I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow."

What if I had never let you go?

Would you be the man I used to know?

What if I had never walked away?

Cause I still love you more than I can say

If I'd stayed, if you'd tried, if we could only turn back time

But I guess we'll never know…

Author's Note: I really hope you liked it. Getting close to the end now. Please keep reading. Please review. I love you all.