From Far Forgotten

A/N: Eiji is, as always, a bubble of words that's why I love to start with him! (and I apologize before hand for the sobbing, I promise not many people will be crying in this fic! really! . ... really...)

Thanks WoLfePaWs, DnKs-giRLs, CelicaChick, Aleana F. D., T.L.Y.Y, and Tora Macaw for reviewing! Please enjoy.

Chapter 1: Eiji's Memories (The Best Friend)

Ouch! His arms hurt. This wasn't funny! He was sure he'd get laughed at... by... who? Someone always liked to tease him. Who was it again?

Eiji groaned miserably, partially cause he couldn't remember, and that bugged him, but mostly because of the heavy buckets of water pulling down at either of his wrists. If he had to hold these any longer, his muscles would be strained, and then he wouldn't get to play tennis! It wasn't fair!

Okay okay, so maybe he should have been paying attention, then the teacher wouldn't have got mad at him for not knowing what page they were on, or maybe he should have done his homework, so he could've answered the special I'll-forgive-you-if-you-know-the-answer question she gave him, before getting even more angry and sending him outside to hold buckets. But, but, but, it just wasn't fair, and usually that guy... who was it again? ... would tell him where to pick up. That was really starting to bother him. It was the guy who sat next to him, the guy that was absent today. Eiji'd forgotten his name (well he forgot most people's names), but at least he should remember what he looked like, right? But for some reason his brain was just totally out of wack today. He just couldn't remember anything! Like what animal those sailors got turned into when they visisted the witch's island... but who cared about old greeky stories anyways? No one read them anymore, everyone watched television, or downloaded media online; jeez, didn't his teacher know that? And, ow, these buckets made his arms hurt!

"Mou..." he growled, rocking the buckets in all his anguish and accidently causing much of the water to spill out onto the hallway tiles.

"Eiji!" Oh, this voice he could easily place. "Someone might slip... we should get this cleaned up right away!" Oishi's cool green eyes wavered with their typical concern, and a little scolding too. Eiji nyad in surprise at the sudden appearance of his favorite (and only) doubles partner. Since Oishi held a stack of envelopes in his hands, it must have been his turn to collect the attendence sheets from all the classrooms. The office loved to send their model student out on rounds; he was setting an example, or something, or maybe they just liked the fact he did their work by scolding errant students for them, and still remained popular. Seriously, people seemed to like him the more that he nagged. Eiji just couldn't figure it out!

Still, his heart lighten at the site of one so familiar, someone he could depend on - and, well, whine to when he felt like it. "Oooishi! This is terrible!" He nyad miserably, face crinkling up like a fish.

"Eiji, I'm sure the teacher is punishing you for a good reason, just because I'm on the student council doesn't mean I can go say anything to her-"

"Oh it's not that!" Okay, so he had hoped Oishi would help him, but he knew the orthodox boy well enough not to bother asking. "Something's bothering me!"

"What's wrong?" His partner's forhead wrinkled in concern.

"I don't know, but it's bothering me! All morning since I got to school. It's really weird you see? And I just can't remember what the guy's who sits next to me name is, or what he looks like, and it's bothering me! It really really is! I think-" he looked a little poutier than usual, lips puckered out like a monkey, but he paused unsure of how to word what he wanted to say. "...um, it's like there's something I'm supposed to know, but I don't, but I want to, and..."

"Eiji eiji, slow down!" Oishi shifted through the envelops in his hand. "Look, the girl who sits next to you is Sachiko Izumi, next time you should just have the courage to ask her her name, there's nothing wrong with-"

"Chigau! That's not it! I meant, the guy who sits on the other side of me," In all his frustration, the buckets's contents had completely emptied out onto the hall's floor. Oops. "You know, in the window seat. He's always looking out the window like he sees something out there no one else can..." ...wait, how did he know that? ... nya? ... For some reason, he started to feel quiet and sad.

"But there is no one in that desk, Eiji. The teacher marked that no one was absent today, and no one's sat at that desk since the beginning of school." Oishi frowned. Normally his partner's absent-minded banter garbled together so many daydreams and random comments he didn't expect to make sense out of it anyways, but for some reason... what Eiji said really didn't add up. In a disconcerting way. He felt a funny pit drop sickeningly in his stomach, and a strange whining ringing monotoneously in the back of his head. An empty realization seaped through him, like a harsh static that drowned out his thoughts, his memories. . . . "... um... Eiji, I'm starting to get that feeling too... like something's very wrong..."

Those cat-like eyes widenned, and Eiji stared at him with watery orbs, all of a sudden looking very sick. ... and frightened. Both water buckets dropped unceremoniously from his hands, clattering noisly against the water laced tile. Suddenly Oishi found himself being gripped - not glomped, or huggled, but both jackets sleeves were being tugged down by Eiji's desparate fingers as the redhead burried his face into his partner's shirt. Oishi gently drew the trembling body closer, pressing his palm across Eij's thick curls, completely unsure of what villain he needed to comfort the sobbing figure from.

It was so strange, though. Nothing had happaned, nothing had changed, no one was hurt, everything was as it should. Yet it felt as if something important had been taken away.

A lifting breeze swept innocuously through the hallway. Nothing was there. Many students had already gone home, but those with extra curriculars had scurried off to meetings, or for those he cared for most, tennis practice.

Fuji let his ashen blue eyes shift visionless towards the window, allowing him to pear down at the tireless figures running vivaciously around green painted courts. A gentle smile played across his face, but he did not wear his usual fox-like mask of upturned eyes and impenetrable ambiance. There was no need. There was no one to hide from. No one was in the hall way. No one saw him. He was not there.

He looked down at his hands, whistling at the pale skin that rippled colder than a grave stone. They were his own hands, he was sure they were, yet he could see right through them. His whole body was like that, transparent, present yet gone... his presense was there, but he was not there. One would have thought he was a ghost.

He didn't feel like a ghost.

No. It must have seemed like he was dead, but he wasn't. He recognized the icy etch that tingled throughout his nerves, after all he'd dealt with enough black magic to recognize the curse as it drowned him. But for once, he failed to defend against it. The darkness blanketed his bones, his skin and vision, coating away his senses and drawing him lurdily into the etherreal, separating him from Tezuka, who had held him so warmly only moments before.

Tezuka... Below he could see his stoic buchou, barking out orders to the peons (first years) around him, telling Momoshiro and Kaido to run more laps for arguing while running laps. Always the epitome of order and efficiency. Always...unchanged... ...you can go on without me... Something in Fuji's mind swirled warningly, but his heart sank down just a little further than it'd been before.

It was remarkable, yet he couldn't help but feel slightly amused... and pitiable, at his failure to deflect the curse which had struck him like a well-placed cobra. It shouldn't have mattered that he was distracted, that his mind was tired from having just woken up after a long, pleasurable night... he had never failed to wave back a curse before, no matter the circumstances. His sister Yumiko had spent hours with him when he was little, going over different kinds of spells and magics of the world, showing him how to avoid them, how to twist them to his advantage, how to use them to cunningly mold the lives around him... he had never, ever thought the curses he specialized at casting could be used against him. And such a severe one at that... after all he...

He had to go home. He had to find Yumiko - surely she'd be able to sense him, maybe even see him - and find out what had happened to him, and how to fix it. Panic tinged dangerously at the edge of his veins, but he quickly brushed it away. He couldn't afford any more distractions. A curse of this level had more than one purpose, and the true meaning behind his... translucence, would be something darker, driven by ardor stronger than only hatred. He had many enemies, but if they simply wanted to kill him, there were other, simpler ways. And something like this required a lot of energy... only a master could remove substance from the universe, or someone with an extreme overflowing passion...

His contemplations were broken by a raucous of uneven footsteps, and his sharp vision was startled by the appearance of two all-too familiar figures, the ever dramatic Golden Pair. Eiji was tumbling backwards, his feet shuffling chaotically and despite his naturally superb balance he looked like he was about to fall, then Oishi would grab him and try to pull him back. Eiji struggled reflexively against him, and moved away only to trip up again, but this time Oishi caught him from behind, locking his arms together around the redhead's waist, holding the two of them close together.

Neither one donned the tennis regular's uniform, and he wondered nonchalantly why they weren't attending practice. But what really drew Fuji's attention was Eiji's cheeks... they were... red, and puffed up, and his eyes were swollen, as if he'd been crying for hours, and he was still crying now, and he kept saying, over and over, "I miss him, I miss him, oh Oishi! He's gone!"

And Oishi cooed distraughtly to him, in a hushed over voice, so Fuji had to strain his senses to hear, "There's no one, there's no one to miss, Eiji, there's no one..."

They were tumbling rapidly towards him, and he pressed his body flatly against the wall, knowing they couldn't see him, trying to keep out of their way so they wouldn't run into him. He knew if they did, they would simply pass through, his flesh no more than a breeze, but the sensation... He didn't want his two best friends to feel anything so terrible. It would be cold, cringingly cold, like touching death... except nothing would be there.

Except...

This wasn't death. With death there were memories, connections, friends made, lovers had, family cared for, many who laughed and yelled and cried and mourned. Many who looked down at the still body in the casket, calling, 'he was our friend, our lover, our brother, our son...' Those who would spit on the gravestone in hatred, and those who would come yearly to clean it and set down flowers. There was death, but before death, there had been life, like the flower which bloomed brilliantly for all to admire just after it was cut from the source of it's vitality.

No, this was far worse...

Fuji Syuusuke had ceased to exist.

End chapter 1

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