Author's Note: I just have to say thank you to all of you for reading. From the bottom of my heart. This journey has been incredible and I never dreamed that so many people would take it with me. I hope to see all you again, for the last chapter and for many more things to come.

Chapter Fourteen: Awakening

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

It had been two weeks. Fourteen days since Fuji had slammed the door in his face and denied his love. Denied their love. Denied that it had ever existed. Fourteen days since he'd crawled into bed and refused to get out. His mother had begged and his father had threatened but Ryoma refused to yield. His skin had grown wan and taken on a sickly yellowish tint from lack of sunlight. He had lost weight; he only ate when his mother broke down and pleaded with him. And even then, he ate just enough to keep himself alive. He hadn't bathed since that day. He gave off a bitter, tangy odor that repulsed him. His skin, caked in layers of unshed dirt, was constantly itchy. He had developed scabs from picking at it so much. Late at night, he could hear his parents fighting across the hall.

"Nanjiroh, we have to do something!" his mother croaked desperately.

Ryoma could imagine her stalking across the room, wringing her hands like she always did when she was distraught.

"I've already offered to call a doctor. Ryoma won't hear it. I can't make him better if he doesn't want to be better, Rinko," his father soothed, tone unusually gentle.

"Well we can't just-we can't just leave it like this! I…I can't bear to see him this way. I hear him crying at night…he doesn't want us to hear but I do, I…" her voice broke off as she dissolved into tears.

Ryoma knew how much pain he was causing her. Under normal circumstances, he would feel exceedingly guilty. But he could not feel. His heart, rather than being broken, seemed to have disappeared altogether. He could not find it. Sometimes he would press his hand to his chest and marvel at the pulse of his heartbeat.

He had to do that, to remind himself that he was alive. Otherwise, if he heeded only the gaping emptiness in his chest, in his entire being, Ryoma would be quite certain that he was dead.

But of course, he was not dead. Because dead men did not cry at night, in the morning, and all the time between.

I know you haven't made your mind up yet

But I will never do you wrong

I've known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong

He hadn't expected it to be like this. Tezuka knew that Fuji was a total idiot and that it was all too likely that he would drive Ryoma away, for whatever twisted reason popped into his head. But he had never expected it to end like this.

Part of him was happy-selfishly, vindictively, jealously happy. But it was a much smaller part than he had thought. The majority of him was just miserable.

The only clear emotion he could define was pure anger, directed at the boy he'd once called his best friend. Oishi had made sure that the two of them stayed as far from each other as possible. No one was interested in a repeat of the hellish Seigaku feuds. It seemed that Fuji was avoiding him, in any case.

The prodigy walked around like a ghost, speaking to no one but Eiji, scarcely taking his eyes off the horizon. Those blue eyes orbs had been crinkled shut for weeks. No one had any way of knowing what he was thinking or feeling. That is, if he was feeling anything at all. Tezuka wasn't sure anymore.

Oishi tapped him on the shoulder, olive eyes knowing.

"Tezuka, you have to stop brooding." He said gently. His bouncy girlfriend Yumi was clinging to his free arm, oblivious as usual to the tension boiling beneath the surface.

Tezuka sucked in a breath and increased his pace. He wished he hadn't agreed to walk home with Oishi. He really didn't want to be bothered right now.

"I'm fine, Oishi," he said, more curtly than he'd meant to.

"You aren't," the vice captain said simply, ignoring Yumi as she tried to engage him. "You're obviously angry. I'm warning you, Tezuka, it's best if we don't get involved. We have to let the two of them work this out themselves."

Tezuka snorted.

"Why? So that Fuji can just screw with him some more?"

"Tezuka," placated Oishi softly, prying Yumi off of him. She whined pitifully. "I think you know it isn't that simple."

"And why?" snarled the captain, suddenly furious. "Why isn't it so simple? Fuji manipulated him just to get back at me for rejecting him! He did all of this to get revenge, and now Ryoma is-,"

"Well that isn't very nice," interjected Yumi prettily, winding her arm around Oishi's waist. Oishi shot her an irritated, furtive glance.

"Yumi, can you take the train home by yourself today? I have a lot of work to do."

Yumi peered up at him through her dark brown bangs. Her forehead was damp from track practice.

"Really? But Tanawa-sensei didn't give us anything but some reading-,"

"Yumi," said Oishi patiently, prying her off for a second time and stopping in his tracks. She seemed to get the hint.

She pushed her glasses back on her nose. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow." She held out her arms, as if expecting a hug, but Oishi wasn't looking at her anymore. His eyes were focused on Tezuka, who was rapidly becoming a speck in the distance.

He was obviously not interested in waiting around.

"Yeah," the vice captain said absently. "Later."

He tightened his grip on his bag and took off at a jog. Tezuka turned around, saw Oishi following him, and came to a halt.

Oishi fell into an easy step next to his friend, who immediately started walking again.

"You didn't kiss your girlfriend goodbye, Oishi," remarked Tezuka dryly. "I'm starting to think you don't even like her."

The olive eyed boy let out a muffled squeak of indignation. "No changing the subject," he said firmly, pausing to allow three elementary school students to run across their path.

Tezuka watched the children fondly, like a doting old grandfather, and when they had disappeared around the corner his face hardened again. All emotion was wiped clean from it.

"So have you two had sex yet?"

Oishi made a choking sound. "How is that any of your business? Stop trying to avoid the conversation. I'm serious, Tezuka, if you touch a hair on Fuji's head Ryoma will hate you for-,"

"He won't," the captain retorted curtly. "Nothing I could do could make him hate me. And it was my business when Eiji-,"

"That's enough." Oishi's cheeks had paled and his right hand had begun to tremble. "Stop now."

"If you still love him, don't you think it's stupid to run around with some girl?" Tezuka had always been one for no nonsense conversations, and this one was no exception. He seemed oblivious, or at least immune, to Oishi's clear discomfort.

"I…I told you, he isn't interested in me that way. At least, not at the moment." Oishi struggled to keep his voice stable. Talking about Eiji this way was like reliving the moment his heart had shattered. No-actually, it was worse. The band-aid was slowly peeling off the still fresh wound and it stung.

Tezuka sighed. "You can be so dense. It isn't if Eiji's feelings are some great mystery. The boy practically wears a neon sign. He is obviously just as in love with you as he's always been."

Oishi's stomach clenched painfully. "I don't want to talk about this," he bit out, "That's what I thought. I was wrong. End of story."

"You weren't wrong," Tezuka said this slowly, as if speaking to a particularly slow child, "All you have to do is get him alone. I highly doubt he'll resist you."

Oishi wanted to scream. The memory of Eiji pushing him away and turning those dark, glistening eyes away from his own was playing across his head like a screenplay.

"I wouldn't take your advice," he hissed icily, "Considering that you tried the same thing and Ryoma rejected you."

Tezuka didn't flinch. "Well, it's different with us. Ryoma is-,"

Finally, Oishi could contain his anger no longer. It rose to the surface like a long dormant volcano ready to erupt.

"Us? Tezuka, don't you get it there is no "us!" There is no you and him! There is Ryoma and Fuji, can't you see that? There will never be any room for you!"

Tezuka stopped walking. A car honked at him as he stood stock still in the middle of the road. But he made no effort to move.

Oishi was too angry to feel guilty. Tezuka's denial was no longer tolerable, especially now that it had interfered with someone else's happiness.

"Give up on him," Oishi persisted, "He doesn't love you. He will never love you. It will always be Fuji. Even if they break up every other day, even if you break them up, Ryoma will never be yours. Even if you somehow manage to get him to be with you, he will never be yours. Don't you understand?"

Tezuka was silent for a long time. More cars honked at them and passerby stared at them, but Tezuka still did not move. His face was blank. His mouth wavered for a split second, before curling into a faint smirk.

He gripped Oishi's arm and pulled the other boy across the street. Safe on the sidewalk, he turned to face Oishi fully. He took off his glasses and Oishi let out a low gasp, anger dissipating.

Tezuka's eyes were soft and wide, emotion after emotion flickering across them. He looked near tears, but his faint smirk did not waver.

"Of course I understand, Oishi," he said simply, voice flat. "But then again…" he put his glasses back on and turned away. He fell back into his rhythm, steps clacking gently on the pavement. The setting sun filtered through his hair and Oishi was struck with a fierce urge to hug him.

"It's nice to dream isn't it?"

Oishi let out a low, strangled little laugh that was more like a cracked sob.

"Yes," he whispered under his breath, propelling himself forward to catch up his friend. "It is always nice to dream."

I'd go hungry

I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

No there's nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love

Fuji's room, for the first time in over thirteen years, was messy. Papers were strewn on the desk, the bed was unmade and the sheets were wrinkled. The bedside trash can had not been emptied and it was starting to overflow with empty chip bags and soda cans. Eiji's favorite stuffed animal was perched on the window sill, indicating the acrobat's newly permanent presence and therefore, the reason for the mess.

Eiji had showed up on Fuji's doorstep the day after the break up carrying a large duffel bag.

"No arguments," he'd said, "I know your parents are still in China. Now whose room am I staying in?"

Fuji hadn't argued. He'd given Eiji the guest room, but the red head spent most of his time in Fuji's room. That was where he was now, slumped on the floor next to the bed.

"I will never understand you," whispered Eiji, running his fingers through Fuji's silky honey brown locks. The tensai did not respond. His head was buried in Eiji's chest and his arms were slung loosely around Eiji's waist. The acrobat was rocking back and forth gently, humming strains of songs he didn't know the words to.

It was the fourth day in a row Fuji had gotten the headaches. They came quickly and without warning. They were so bad sometimes that Fuji could do nothing but sit in his room with the blinds shut and cradle his head in his hands.

Eiji had never seen anything reduce his friend to tears. Ever. But now Eiji could feel warm liquid soaking through his shirt and he knew that Fuji was weeping. The tensai made no sound and his body was perfectly stationary, but it was enough to frighten Eiji horribly.

"Fuji," he whined petulantly, "Please, please let me call a doctor. Please. You can't stay like this. The medicine I gave you isn't working."

Fuji's muffled voice sent tingles up Eiji's spine. "No doctor," he mumbled softly, "Give it time."

"It's been long enough! You've tried every aspirin ever made! Please, Fuji, you're scaring me!" Eiji's voice rose in pitch and he felt Fuji flinch against him.

"Eiji," the prodigy whispered calmly, "Please don't cry."

"I'm not going to cry!" he whined, pressing his free hand against his eyes to stop the tears from coming.

"You are," mumbled Fuji, and his body shook ever so slightly. Eiji felt the vibrations of laughter through his shirt.

"I won't if you let me take you the hospital," he grumbled, removing his hand from Fuji's hair and pressing it against the other boy's porcelain forehead. It was covered in beads of sweat.

"I don't need to go the hospital," Fuji protested, pushing himself away from Eiji so that he was in sitting position. He had to support his weight by leaning on his arms and after a second, they began to shake precariously.

His face was pale and drawn and his cheeks were sunken in. His eyes were half shut and the blue that Eiji could see was so washed out it was nearly gray. There was no trace of tears on his face and Eiji thought that he might've imagined it after all.

"You look like death," Eiji whispered, unable to keep his voice from cracking. "God, Fuji. How can you stand this? How can you stand to be in so much pain?"

Fuji offered up a pathetic excuse for a smile, even worse than his usual attempts.

"It isn't so bad," he whispered, "There are worse types of pain. Compared to that, this isn't so bad at all."

Eiji let out a low groan, unable to stop a tear from falling. He hated to see Fuji suffer like this. He hated it. The tie between them was rooted deep within in his heart and the pain almost felt as if it was his.

In fact, he wished it was. He would gladly have taken it away.

"Is that what this is about?" he whispered fiercely, wiping his tears away before Fuji could see. "Are you doing this because you think deserve to be punished? Is this your idea of penance?"

Fuji shook his head almost imperceptibly. His eyes had drifted shut and it almost looked as if he were sleeping, if not for the deep lines that graced his brow.

"I didn't ask for this," He said quietly, "I don't know why this is happening now."

Eiji had to bite his lip to keep himself from screaming.

"I do," he said hotly, "Ryoma. It's because you miss him, it's because you feel horrible for breaking his heart and yours-,"

"Enough, Eiji," Fuji mumbled, "You know that has nothing to do with this. I let Ryoma go because it was the right thing to do."

Eiji did scream this time and Fuji cringed. "The right thing to do? Fuji, can you be so stupid? How is tormenting both of you the right thing to do?"

"I only went after him to hurt Tezuka," Fuji whispered hoarsely. He let himself fall to one side and curled into a ball, facing away from Eiji. "You know that. I just got tired of playing with him."

"Liar!" Eiji hissed, balling his hands into fists. "Don't lie to me! It may have started that way but you know that isn't how it is anymore! You love him-,"

"It doesn't matter. The two of us could never work. He'd only get hurt in the end."

"And what do you think he is now?" retorted the acrobat hotly, scooting closer to where Fuji lay. "What do you think he is now, then, Fuji? Why hasn't he come to school in two weeks? On vacation, is he?"

"He will get over that pain. I got out in time to ensure that he will be able to heal. Eventually he will forget me and move on. If I stayed with him, he…we….I don't think that anything would be able to fix him then."

Eiji fell silent. He had no idea what so say. What could he say? Fuji was always, no matter what, going to do what Fuji wanted.

"I just want you to be happy," pleaded Eiji, "Why can't you just let yourself be happy?"

Fuji's face was hidden from him but Eiji was fairly sure that the tensai was shaking.

"Because," he said dryly, "I'm a damn fool."

The shaking ceased. Eiji bit his lip.

"It isn't too late, Fuji. You can still fix this. Call him, go to him. There's still time left…"

Fuji did not respond.

"Fuji?"

Eiji closed the space between them. He pressed against Fuji's shoulder. It flopped to side mechanically-lifelessly. Eiji pushed him over, heart leaping into his throat.

Fuji's face was a mask of serenity. For the first time in days, it was not twisted in pain. His long lashes cast a shadow over his cheeks. He really did look like an angel. A stone angel.

Eiji couldn't help it this time. He screamed.

I shouldn't love you

But I want to

I just can't look away

Cause I don't know how to be fine when I'm not

And I don't know how to make the feeling stop

It was abnormally cold on the day Tezuka decided to visit Ryoma. He hadn't known what he was going to say or how he would react to seeing his teammate. He didn't know if Ryoma would cry on his shoulder or punch him in the face. Hell, that was assuming that Ryoma would even let him in. Eiji and Momoshiro had both tried to visit but Seigaku's youngest regular had refused to open the door.

Mrs. Echizen handed him a cup of tea. Her hands were shaking slightly and she looked as if she hadn't slept properly in weeks.

"Thank you," the captain said, unease building in the pit of his stomach. "It's um…it's cold today."

"Yes," the woman said absently, tucking a stray strand of hair back in place. "The sun has gone away for some reason. I just hope it comes back soon."

Tezuka swallowed the warm amber liquid in a single gulp, ignoring the etiquette he was usually so anal retentive about. "I do as well. Um… is there…any way I could see Ryoma?"

Rinko's face tightened and the lines on it seemed to deepen.

"I think it's lovely that you came to check on Ryoma. But I have to warn you, that you aren't the first one to try. I'm afraid he refuses to see anyone."

"Please," pleaded Tezuka, desperate all of a sudden, "Please just ask him. Tell him it's Tezuka. Tell him that I…there is something very important I need to tell him. Something has happened. Please, I…"

"Of course, dear," Rinko said, face softening in clear pity. "I'll tell him. For his sake I hope…I hope that he'll agree to see you."

And so Tezuka sat and waited. He watched her go up the stairs. He didn't know exactly how long she was gone. It felt like a millennium, regardless.

What he did know is when she came back down she was sporting a smile that looked as if it would tear her face in two.

And Tezuka did something he had not done in a very long time. He smiled right back.

Where did I go wrong?

I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I'd known how to save a life

Ryoma didn't know why he agreed to see Tezuka. Tezuka, of all people-after he'd turned away Momo and Eiji, who had both been invaluable friends to him.

It wasn't that Ryoma blamed the other boy. He'd had enough time to brood and he'd realized, almost immediately, that this had been bound to happen from the moment Fuji had kissed him in the rain.

Tezuka had just accelerated the process for his own purposes. Somehow, though, even that didn't bother Ryoma much.

Compared to everything else, it really didn't matter at all.

When the door creaked open, Ryoma found himself seized with a desperate urge to hide under the covers. But he didn't.

He also found himself wishing he'd had time to bath, rather than just dousing himself with cold water and splashing on the aftershave he never wore. He had attempted to tame his wild mane-though days of being greasy and unkempt had served to make that difficult.

The selection of clean clothes was easy. It was the first time he'd changed out of his pajamas in days. A pair of shorts and a graphic T-shirt with a picture of a tennis ball on the front had been the first things in his closet and so that's what he had put on.

But still, when Tezuka entered the dim room and shut the door, Ryoma found himself feeling horribly inadequate.

The older boy stumbled at first, unused to the poor lighting in the room. His eyes wheeled around underneath his glasses, struggling to find their target. After a moment, they settled on Ryoma.

Tezuka's face shifted then. The strange mask of calm fell away and revealed a boy stricken with horror, confusion, and most prominently, guilt. Ryoma found himself mildly enjoying the last one.

It was Ryoma who broke the silence.

"Do I really look that bad?"

The hoarseness of his voice surprised even him. Tezuka winced.

"Ryoma, I…I'm so-,"

"Don't," Ryoma interrupted, gesturing for Tezuka to take a seat at the desk. "There isn't any point in that."

Tezuka fell silent and took his seat. His hazel eyes gleamed in the darkness and Ryoma could read the pain in them. In fact, it was quite similar to looking into a mirror.

"Why haven't you come to school?" Tezuka asked finally, clasping his hands together. "It's been weeks, Ryoma and no one has seen or heard from you. You can't go on this way-,"

"I can," Ryoma said dryly, drawing his knees to his chest. "I can do this as long as I like. Why is it that when everyone else wants to do something ridiculous, it's fine, but the one time I need –,"

"Ryoma, if you're referring to Fuji, I never approved of that, I tried to warn you-,"

"Yes," Ryoma spat bitterly, "That kiss of yours was a fantastic warning. Thanks."

Tezuka's mouth snapped shut. He looked near to tears.

"I can't apologize for kissing you," he mumbled under his breath. "Please don't ask me to. You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

Ryoma was silent. His impassive olive eyes gave away no trace of guilt. It seemed that whatever hold Tezuka held over him had been broken when Fuji's front door slammed shut.

"Ryoma, please," Tezuka said gently, "I am sorry that I hurt you. I am sorry that Fuji hurt you, I tried…I was only ever trying to protect you-,"

"I don't need someone to protect me!" Ryoma found himself screaming. He bolted off the bed and onto his feet, fists clenched in fury. "Everyone has a fucking agenda and what I want doesn't matter! Protect me, use me, fuck me, keep me, break me!"

Ryoma's voice broke as he realized the truth of his words. Not once since this entire thing started had anyone asked him what he wanted. He'd been a pawn from the beginning- whether in Fuji's game or in Tezuka's jealous scheme, he'd always been nothing more than a trophy.

"I'm not a child!" Ryoma pressed on, anger giving way to staunch determination. "I am not a child who needs someone to coddle him! I don't need protection and I don't need anyone to tell me what I want! I know what I want!"

Tezuka's face hardened. He seemed to realize something then.

"What do you want, Ryoma?" he asked seriously, standing and closing the distance between them. Ryoma could taste the warm scent of coffee and licorice. That was Tezuka's scent- it was calm and steady, promising stability and strong arms to hold him when he was afraid. It promised happiness, simple and clean. Ryoma breathed it in, let it fill him up. He let himself enjoy it for the last time.

And then he reached up with a shaking hand and pressed his warm palm against Tezuka's cool cheek.

"I want you to let me go."

And then Ryoma leaned up on his tip toes and pressed a chaste kiss to Tezuka's lips. And when Ryoma pulled away, there was no more doubt in his heart.

Suddenly, it was very clear to him what he needed to do. He looked at Tezuka, who was gazing off into the distance.

"I have to go now."

Tezuka blinked. And then slowly, he told Ryoma the message he'd been sent to deliver in the first place.

And Ryoma turned and left him behind.

So hold tight just when you think you've got it

Alright

Fate comes and then you drop it

Tonight I just hate to see you suffer

Fuji woke up in a white room. That in itself struck him as odd, because he hated white. It was too pure. It showed every little last taint and spot. Fuji would never understand why people wanted to see things like that.

It would drive him crazy.

The second thing Fuji noticed is that there were several people in his room. Eiji, was all but sitting on top of him and the rest of the Seigaku regulars were scattered about the room, sitting on folding chairs or standing.

Well…not all. There was one missing. There would always be one missing.

Tezuka was the first to notice that the tensai was awake.

"Fuji," he breathed, "Finally."

Fuji recognized Tezuka's mock impatience for what it really was-relief. So the captain did still care for him. Or at least, like him enough not to wish him dead.

Eiji shot up from his perch and Fuji winced as the red head flung his loopy arms around Fuji's neck.

"Fujiko!" he whined piteously, and Fuji could feel a cool wetness on his shoulder.

"Eiji," Fuji rasped, running his hand across his friend's back. "Come now, don't start crying again."

Inui tapped his glasses and cleared his throat. "Let him cry, Fuji. The doctors had given us a rather dim statistic. You are very lucky."

It was then that Fuji noticed the various needles stuck in his left arm.

"Wait," he said dumbly, "What happened to me?"

Momoshiro scratched the back of his head, attempting to give a reassuring grin.

"Well, er-I don't know how to put this Fuji, but you've kind of-,"

"Momo," Fuji interjected politely, mustering an insincere smile. "Please."

"What the idiot is trying to say," offered Kaidoh, who had one arm slung around the purple eyed boy's shoulder, "Is that you've got a brain tumor."

Fuji blinked. "I see."

Eiji had begun to cry harder now and Fuji could feel teardrops trickle down his collar bone.

"You had a brain tumor," corrected Taka helpfully, brandishing a teddy bear with a card pinned to its front, "They took it out."

Fuji blinked again. "Oh."

Oishi stepped forward and gently pried a bawling Eiji off of Fuji. Fuji shot the other boy a silent glance of gratitude.

"You're going to be fine now," Oishi reassured him, "The doctors think they got it all. It was pressing against your cerebral cortex…or something like that. They said that you should have come in sooner though, it could've killed you if it had been left alone a bit more."

Eiji ceased his crying, rubbing at his eyes with his fists. "Fuji you idiot!" he blurted out, "You idiot! The doctors asked me, they asked me "But I don't get it, he should have been in absolute agony, why didn't he come in sooner?" Idiot, idiot! And you almost died, you almost died, you-,"

"Eiji, I'm sorry," mumbled Fuji, pressing a hand to his head. A dull pain had begun to build. "You were right."

"Damn straight!"The acrobat cried, "I swear to God I could kill you!"

Fuji offered up a weak smile. "Well, you know-,"

"Fuji-senpai," a clear voice interjected, "It really isn't that funny."

And it was then that Fuji noticed the open door. And the person standing in it.

Ryoma's olive gaze was smooth and calm. The scared, hysterical boy Fuji had last seen was no longer there.

The boy standing before him was the cocky brat he'd fallen for in the first place.

"Ryoma," he breathed, sitting up fully. His heart leapt into his throat. "You…" his voice trailed off.

Oishi cleared his throat and shot a very pointed glance at the onlookers. The room cleared in a matter of moments, though Eiji had to be bodily dragged out.

It was Ryoma who spoke first.

"You scared me," he whispered, pulling at his shirt. It was the tiniest bit too small, exposing the most tantalizing portion of tanned flesh.

Fuji swallowed. "I…"

"Don't say anything. Just listen." Ryoma's eyes were blazing. Fuji had seen that fire before. Those eyes were blazing that when Ryoma had told him in the rain,

"I want you."

The fire that nothing in the world could ever put out.

"I love you," Ryoma said firmly, crossing to where Fuji lay in stunned silence. The freshman was now close enough for Fuji to reach out and touch. "You broke my heart. I cried non-stop for weeks. I wanted to die, Fuji. I wanted to reach for a steak knife and tear my heart out. That is how high you get me and how far I fall. And I refuse to fall any further than I have already. So if you are going to sit there and pretend it all meant nothing then I need to hear you say it. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't love me. "

Fuji's lower lip quavered. A ringing had started in his ears. "Ryoma…can this wait? I don't feel up to this right now-,"

Or ever. Fuji would much rather have avoided this conversation forever. Because Ryoma had asked him to do the very thing he could not.

"Tough." Ryoma flat lined, clenched fists tightening. His small shoulders were held high. "Answer me now, Fuji. No more games. No more playing by your fucked up rules."

"Ryoma, I already told you. Stop embarrassing yourself." The words tasted like acid as they passed Fuji's lips. It took everything he had to complete the sentence. "Please just go. I don't feel well."

Ryoma didn't flinch. Somewhere between now and the time Fuji had broken him, the youngest regular had gotten steel in his spine. And he wasn't bending.

"I'm not leaving until you answer me. What's so hard about it? If you really hate me that much, then it should be easy."

Fuji's heart rate continue to increase. An electric tingling had started at the base of his neck and was traveling down his back.

"Ryoma-,"

"No! Tell me!"

"I can't!" blurted Fuji before he could stop himself. A wave of pain crashed over him and he doubled over, fresh tears springing to the back of his lids. "Don't you understand, Ryoma? I can't say that. I just…"

"Why?" Ryoma's voice had dropped to a barely audible whisper. He knelt beside the bed, pressing his palms flat against Fuji's knees. "Tell me why you can't say it, Fuji."

"Why are you doing this?" groaned Fuji, struggling to keep the tears from coming. He couldn't cry, he had no right to cry. "After what I said to you, why are you still here?"

"Because," Ryoma said simply, "You belong to me."

Fuji looked up, unable to stop himself. Three crystalline tears slid down his cheeks.

Ryoma's olive eyes were blazing and locked with his own. And Fuji couldn't look away.

Because that was the moment he realized that he was hopelessly ensnared by Echizen Ryoma.

And when Ryoma leaned forward and gave him a kiss that took the remaining breathe out of his body; Fuji realized that Ryoma was never going to let him go.

And strangely, it was alright with him. He was still afraid, yes. Still terrified to his very core that he would break this delicate, most precious gift he had been given.

But then Ryoma broke the kiss and said, "Fuji-senpai. I know you love me. You don't have to say it yet. As long as you stay. Promise me that you'll stay."

And as Fuji re-closed the distance between them, the tensai realized something else.

Yes, he was afraid. But this….

This was far more important.

So I lay my head back down

And I lift my hands and pray

To be only yours I pray

To be only yours

I know now

You're my only hope