Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Veil Over My Eyes ❯ The Week Before New Year II ( Chapter 11 )

A/N:

Yes so several things have happened since I posted last:

 

TITLE CHANGE - From EUROPEAN STUDIES this fic is now named as VEIL OVER MY EYES - admittedly European Studies was just a temp title because I seriously suck at naming things. Hence it took me ten chapers before I got something decent. The spirit of the story is still the same. Please don't be put off with the name change.

 

Everything - The Compare and Merge tool had not been kind to my fic when I gave it a once over. I see that I was not able to delete some comments that go between me and my beta, monster1, sorry about that. Fixed it already. However if you feel a comment I made has not been deleted in the body of this new chapter please feel free to catch my attention:)

 

Chapter 1 - I realized there are too many blue eyed brunettes so I changed Leon's description to green eyed and black haired. Green being slightly teal.

 

1) God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - For the links to the songs related to this chapter I suggest going for them in my journal, since ff dot net cuts links. It's not necessary to listen to them, but if you're like me, who have never heard these songs until recently, (yes until I researched christmas carols) then it would help. Am I that sad a person?

http://esnips.com/doc/ef3576b5-1437-44a2-bf80-2e24ffc5ff28/Mariah -Carey---11---God-Rest-Ye-Merry,-Gentlemen

http://esnips.com/doc/e5b1b44c-39de-43d1-8079-4f1fbaebfdd5/God-re st-you-merry-gentlemen

http://esnips.com/doc/76e3fcc0-3ef5-4349-ad25-56694e180cd3/Aly--A J---Acoustic-Hearts-Of-Winter---05---God-Rest-Ye-Merry-Gentlemen

The above order is how Fuji's singing is meant to feel and I don't know if I was able to capture it.

 

2) Photographs - the notes behind them are all taken from random Tenipuri episodes. One was from the last few episodes of tenipuri, the other was from episode 73, 'Tezuka's Decision' again, and the last was from ep 130 'We Want to See Tezuka'. If I edited it in anyway, it's only to make them a complete sentence. Likewise the places described are also taken from ep 130.

 

3) Album's letter - That is the translated version of Right By Your Side, Fuji's On The Radio song, taken from annie32319 and made by her. If you ever come by this fic I am so sorry for not asking your permission, but I couldn't find your page a second time.

 

I don't think I forgot to mention anything but if I did just ask :).

 

Hopefully you all enjoy, and well I'll see if I can finish 12 soon. College is killing me at the moment but after today, which is a really happy day wherein I passed all my exams and am able to finally post this, I think I'll survive.

 

Again, thank you to monster1 who is one of the few who have not given up on me. Thank you ever so much for the beta.

Thank you to my sister who gave me the idea for the final title. (If anyone cares to know Mounting Fuji was one of the crack titles we made. Several others revolved that same theme)

Thank you also to those who have reviewed/added me since the previous chapter, namely:

calindy, misterwalnut, tyrantsoul, jingy5 from LJ

catmum56 from MM dot org

yamatoforever, kunimitsu4shusuke, Sali Mwana, ATP(thank you for pointing out that mistake in the years!) and vierblith, who has now become my first kababayan authoress chatmate(Cheers to us!), from ff dot net.

---

Veil Over My Eyes: Chapter 11

The Week Before New Year Part 2

 

Sengoku received an earful that day. On all accounts, his observations were correct except he hadn't factored in one thing: the family's feelings. Patients could give signs of waking, might, in fact, snap out of it for a few minutes then fall back. The doctors explained to Fuji over and over again as he regarded them calmly. All the time his heart fluttered elsewhere. Fuji didn't care when they had said explicitly that he might end up holding onto a false line of hope. If it's a step forward then it's a step forward. No need to stumble back. The rest might be harder but it at least it was possible to keep going on. It wasn't his job to be realistic and practical. If he'd turn up broken along the way, then he'd just have to fix himself.

 

Fuji apologized profusely to the nurse but Sengoku brushed it off. "Stop. It was my mistake but they can't touch me because for all intents and purposes, I was still correct, and I have a pass to boot. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry." After a long pause, Sengoku held him by the shoulders and donned the most serious face Fuji ever came to see on him. "If there's anyone who can do it, my dear friend, it's you. You'll pull him out of this. You're his lucky charm. He's even moaning Shuusuke as we speak!"

 

Grinning manically, Fuji's rebellious spirit retorted. "No, it's 'Fshuu' followed by 'Suke' in alternating patterns and varying intervals." His cheek earned him a small slap and a yell. This was the closest he saw Sengoku terrified. For the second time, Fuji wondered how Yamabuki's most famous philanderer ended up a self-committed philanthropist.

 

"He needs you, damn it!"

 

But the gleam in Fuji's eyes said he didn't have to be told twice. Flustered from his sudden outburst, Sengoku excused himself hurriedly.

 

Somewhere in between the exchange, Rowe had left, and Yukio had latched onto Fuji's shirt sleeve. Tentatively Fuji felt the small hand in his. His heart skipping a beat, he held the boy's hand firmly and, with a squeeze, let the silence speak for both of them. If there was a question - the question - in the boy's eyes, he would answer truthfully and without pretenses. Until then, he would support him with every small gesture.

 

Yukio was a smart boy, and after three days of staying in a place that reeked of death, it was a miracle that he still hadn't asked. Will Mitsu-niichan 'die'? Fuji gave the door a leveled glare. Tezuka might but they wouldn't back down without a fight. And if he had any say in it, Tezuka wouldn't even contemplate on some self-righteous adventure of going into the light.

 

"Yudan sezou ni ikou," Yukio squeaked, blushing but not shamed. There was little the boy understood but the most important thing he did grasp was his family needed smiling faces, not tear streaked eyes. The meaning, though, was lost to Fuji, and Yukio took the stricken moment to explain." 'tte.Mitsu-niichan said it a lot, and whenever he did .everybody gets encouraged." Though it was not said in the same fashio,n it was with the same point and purpose.

 

Fuji laughed, picked up the little boy and banished all other depressing thoughts. He didn't know the truth of the statement but it did get him his earlier resolve back. Yukio wouldn't take this lying down either apparently. Startling himself a bit, he reveled in the existence of a child in his arms. He remembered Taka's little girl and how carrying her felt. This moment was similar but not quite the same. The instinct to protect was overwhelming with a pride unnamed. And unexpectedly, as he reluctantly clambered out of the impromptu hug, Fuji received a kiss on the cheek.

 

"Shuu-nii, I miss your smile. It's like mama's. Do it again, please." Yukio requested, snuggling back into the crook of Fuji's neck. It was an insightful statement considering Fuji barely frowned in the boy's presence.

 

"That goes for Yu-chan too." Fuji felt the slight up turn of Yukio's lips against his nape soon followed by a badly fought yawn. Fuji chuckled as he sat them by Tezuka's side.

 

"Shuu-nii, let's sing karos for Mitsu-niichan."

 

"Karo?"

 

"Yup! Mitsu-niichan always sings them to me for Ku- kuriisumasu right after we open presents. We always have fun but I never understand them because I fall asleep." Yukio clapped his hands together with an irregular rhythm and accompanied it with a melody that could almost be anything. Fast, slow, rapid, lingering. Repeat. High, low, soft, squeaking. Repeat. Stopping from his wriggling, Yukio whipped his head to face Fuji. "Umm but I'm not going to fall asleep this time."

 

Amused at the odd knowledge of Christmas practice, the artful impulsiveness of the cousins and most of all, the childish sweetness, Fuji bit back a laugh. "Then what would you like us to sing?" Yukio's brows had furrowed when he couldn't remember a simple title such as Silent Night. Saving the boy from further distress, Fuji picked one he deemed most appropriate and sang.

 

"God rest ye merry, gentlemen

Let nothing you dismay,"

 

Fuji started slow and unsure, not really caring if he hit the notes right but with every intention to pour his heart out into the song's words. Yukio climbed onto Tezuka's bed all the while clapping and facing Fuji with a large grin. Reminiscence of a beautiful symphony fluttered, triggered by the boy's beaming face. Flutes trilled. Pipes blew. Drums beat. Tambourines struck. Taking courage from it, Fuji continued despite the loud thumping of his heart for a reason unknown.

 

"Remember Christ our Savior

Was born on Christmas Day

To save us all from Satan's power

When we were gone astray

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy

O tidings of comfort and joy."

 

Yukio repeated the first verse, humming and swaying. Finally hitting nearer to the notes of the carol, Yukio tried to sing its refrain. Whenever forgetting the next word, he filled them in with a "Ra" sometimes a "Na" and giggled at his own mistakes. Fuji played the song alongside with him and took the punctuated nodding as a sign to move on.

 

 

" 'Fear not then,' said the Angel,

'Let nothing you affright,

This day is born a Savior

Of a Virgin pure and bright,

To free all those who trust in Him

From Satan's power and might.'

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy

O tidings of comfort and joy."

 

Faster and faster each note was executed and was a stark contrast to its slow beginning. Yukio had again wriggled onto Fuji's lap and sang the refrain with less than stellar pronunciation but with more enthusiasm than any choir Fuji had seen. Like a finely tuned violin playing at its best, they continued their performance to their sleeping audience. Hopes held high as they very much wished to be heard.

 

"Now to the Lord sing praises,

All you within this place,"

 

Sustaining at the last second, Fuji shook his head. Slower and calmer, Fuji squeezed the boy tight before he picked up again.

 

"And with true love and brotherhood

Each other now embrace;

This holy tide of Christmas

All other doth deface."

 

Sadness and happiness intermingled in their voices. Made raw each time Yukio's battle against sleep was nearly lost with a yawn. Softly, sweetly, the refrain was repeated twice, then thrice. Near its end, Yukio slept clutching the shirt above his chest, a tear on his eye but an undeniable smile on his face.

 

Combing Yukio's hair down, Fuji whispered the song a bit harsher in the silence and in the unwitting emotional seclusion. "O tidings of comfort and joy." Unwilling to return to the bitter reality rearing its ugly head above them, he held on until his breath could no longer hold and laboriously gasped for air. Easing up on his chair, Fuji sighed. The out of place recluse had not been unwelcome though he wondered if the emotional torrent that went with the song was worth it.

 

His ease was short-lived, interrupted by a lady who seemed to have gained several worry lines on an otherwise immaculate face. She paused by the doorway upon noticing the unexpected visitor. Softly, so as not to disturb Yukio, she closed the door, unwrapped several parcels and laid them on the tables. A scroll was unfurled, later confirmed to be a zenga scroll, and was hung on the available wall. It read - ichigo, ichie - one chance, one encounter. Weird, considering the circumstances but Fuji decided not to comment.

 

The seconds stretched thin, and Fuji decided it was time he left the real family some privacy. Rushing to the hospital without a moment's notice was selfish and inconsiderate of him. God only knows why he was listed as next of kin. "Sorry for the intrusion. I'll leave now."

 

"No!" The adamant negation caused several items spilled from the lady's hold. She, whom Fuji guessed to be the mother of his friend, shook her head frantically and bent to pick up the pieces. Shuffling Yukio around the seat, Fuji did the same. She relinquished her belongings from him and repeated her answer. "No. Kunimitsu would have liked for you to stay. Besides, Yu-chan there seems to be taken by you. I know for one he's never slept on my lap before." She flashed him a grin and patted the five year-old's unruly hair.

 

The information went over Fuji's head, and the only reply he could come up with didn't make sense. The stuffed toys and the assortment of lures taken from him were placed carefully on the sill behind him. Eyes downcast, he murmured. "I'm sorry, Tezuka-san."

 

"Ayana is fine, Fuji-kun."

 

"Then please call me Shuusuke."

 

Ayana Tezuka giggled after giving the knickknacks a last lingering touch. "Those silly boys don't show it but they love each other a lot. Tea?" Without so much as waiting for the answer, she set off to do the proffered drink. "Kuniharu was too shocked to hear our Kunimitsu wouldn't even consider a girlfriend. Father...he couldn't speak, couldn't call his grandson back as he walked out. And you should know that once a Tezuka decides they don't go back. Are you his...?"

 

"Ayana-san, forgive me but," Fuji stopped mid-sentence, constricted. He knew Tezuka, surely. It would be a lie to say they weren't close, considering the events of the few days past and the few moments saying they weren't anything but. However he could not remember things farther back than those few days. Theirs was a friendship tested by time and failed. More precisely, theirs was a friendship played by fates and died. Horribly. It hurt to admit but he didn't even know how the man liked his coffee. Unlike how easy it was to predict Eiji's two teaspoons of sugar and a dash of cream or Leon's preference for black bitter brews. Was Tezuka near Leon's spectrum or Eiji's sweeter side? Or maybe, hard it was to believe, completely out of his radar. Clearing his throat, he continued with his first thought. "I hardly know your son."

 

Ayana refused to look at Fuji. "I know." Even as she set down their cups full to the brim of brown tea, their eyes would not meet. She trained them on Tezuka but presented the tray with grace only borne out of practice. "Your little brother told hysterical old me when I had called, in hope that you'd take responsibility. Kunimitsu is right. I should put more faith in his friends." Fuji felt out of place even with Ayana's light tone but suddenly understood the woman's urge to keep talking. Talk about her son; keep him grounded. "You came here without any prompting despite the severe case of forgetfulness, and that's enough for a worried mother like me. Don't be a stranger, Shuusuke-kun. We share the same grief."

 

There was no spite veiled in those words. Wary though at the beginning, he now stilled the self-pitying wheels churning in his head. An idea graced Fuji's lips with a smile. "Please tell me more about Kunimitsu."

 

She was shocked at first but in the end Ayana beamed, taking the comforting pat on her hand not as an I understand, because no one could comprehend the inner turmoil of a mother pained, but as the answer to her offer - Please share it with me too. Truly, that was what Fuji wanted - to hold up for a person they cared for not in the same way but just as intensely. "Only if you tell us more about yourself."

 

"Deal, Ayana-san."

 

So they talked until each other's throat was sore. They talked until no trivial story about beer bottle caps, key chains and about the handmade mats from destroy grip tape from Ayana's package was left untold. They talked until Fuji tried to reconcile those memories with his own gaping ones. They talked until they concluded Tezuka's sentimentalities for these trinkets were not his own. They talked until Yukio woke and did most of the talking for them. They talked until night had completely fallen and the day gone again. And finally they talked agreeing to meet tomorrow to talk again.

 

Humming 'While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night', Fuji couldn't help but imagine Tezuka liking his coffee black.

---

 

Yumiko vaguely recalls dragging in a tall man with a green jump suit in her kitchen on this cool December morning. She recalls barking orders to fix her plumbing. She recalls the emotions swirling past her these three days. She recalls the sinking feeling of being backed into a corner with nowhere to turn to. She recalls the numbness she made herself accustomed to. Lastly she recalls the helplessness the numbness brought with it.

 

 

Yumiko loved her brothers very much. There was nothing she wouldn't do for them. Family first - a principle her father taught very fervently. Maybe it was the large age gap, maybe it was the gender divide but her two younger brothers didn't understand their father's way of life. But she did, and mother did too.

 

Father loved his job. Sometimes he loved it a bit too much but never, never, more than family. He knew where his loyalties lay and he also knew that his job could use him, spit him out and leave him for the dogs. Politics didn't give you glory. It dirtied your name even as you try to help someone else. It disfigured your character into someone who waited too long to offer a hand or probably warped the mess as entirely your fault. Still he loved it because he knew whatever he was doing he was right. He fought hard for his principles and his beliefs, the rebuilding of all of Japan's burnt bridges.

 

Father was no big name. Some would consider him a paper pusher maybe. Last she heard his name was buried in cases upon cases of graft and corruption. She knew better than to believe it. Father idolized his mentor, a judge on the International Court of Justice, president of the Institute of International Affairs and advisor to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He wanted to live up to his great teacher, the teacher who poured his heart and soul into his muddied career. They believed Japan would die as an island but it could and would live as a new world. So they invested themselves in this dream. He would not do anything to destroy that. He couldn't.

 

But he died even without even a step near it.

 

Giving herself a final once over by the hallway mirror, she strode towards her youngest brother. She paid no heed to the six pairs of eyes following her every movement.

 

"Yuuta, come here. I've got some ugly graveyard jokes to share." She had managed to stifle her laughter when Yuuta looked satisfactorily devastated, confused and annoyed. The boy finally making the connection to his previous horrid metaphor paled and further embarrassed himself by mouthing the words repeatedly until it made him blush. Tugging, pulling and hoisting her brother from the sofa, she led her to their father's study.

 

"Neechan I'm so-"

 

Locking her brother into a fierce hug, Yumiko cut him off. "No, Yuuta. I'm sorry." The silence that followed was a courtesy to her and she appreciated it. Picking at the short hairs on the boy's nape, she bought herself time. Yuuta was much taller than her now, even with her six-inch heels, taller than Shuusuke by at least half a head too. A fond smile crept to her face as she remembered the toddlers tottering after her. They barely came up to her waist. She gathered her bearings and cleared her throat.

 

"I love you."

 

"I know that."

 

"No, listen. I love Shuusuke, too. Now sit. I'll explain as much as I can. But Yuuta, please don't expect me to say this all to Shuusuke face to face. I can't. You saw father. It was - He was - Yuuta I just can't." Leaving the statement hanging to be understood by Yuuta at will, Yumiko weaved through the piles of paper in the same manner as Yuuta did previously, with a penlight and heightened senses.

 

Yuuta splayed his hands flat on the desk and plopped down on the leather chair. He reaffirmed his very best attitude to be objective and restrained. He didn't want to react hotly and blow his only chance at the information privy to her. Fumbling with the desk lamp, he admired his handiwork when it lit. Hospital records were out. Irrational anger put down. All that's left was the story Yumiko vowed never to relive.

 

"I love Shuusuke, but every time I see him, I can't help but blame him. He took father away. He always fought with father. And really, they can be stubborn, annoying, loving people but they…"

 

The air that hung around them choked Yumiko. Unable to continue, she shuffled the papers set atop the table. The shadow cast on Yuuta's face obscured whatever he felt from her. She avoided looking straight at her brother's eyes. The veil of darkness enveloping them was not helping.

 

Apparent that she couldn't finish her sentence, Yuuta did it for her. "Fought at the most inopportune time leading to the events of September 7. What did they fight about?"

 

"Rowe-san mentioned Shuusuke's boyfriend and omiai."

 

"Rowe was there?"

 

Giving up on the third round of flipping the hospital records, Yumiko bit her lip. "They lived together, Yuuta." Yumiko hoped and pleaded silently that Yuuta would control the conversation. If he wouldn't, she might spout out untruthful comments just to appease her spite or she might start bawling again like so long ago the first time she saw their father.

 

"Anyone else? Mom?"

 

"Mother gave the deciding power to me when we were in the hospital. If she knows anything then, it's by her own deduction." Yumiko's voice hitched at the indifference in her description of their mother. The truth clenched her heart and squeezed it hard. Screwing her eyes shut, she could vividly see Yoshiko, praying at any waking moment, folding paper cranes when she should have slept, stringing them into one, as she should have eaten and nattering only of her plan when saved enough energy to utter a word. "She was a broken woman ever since."

 

Yuuta inched closer to the small circle of light the lamp provided them with a curious gleam in his eyes. They weren't predatory but they were suspicious. He poised to jump at anything she might have intentionally left out. Taking the records from her grasp, he flipped it to the summary off handedly, pointed to the line that caught him off-guard last Thursday. "Explain, please. Tell me what happened as you know it."

 

Yumiko withdrew to lean on her seat in an act of palpable defeat. It was hard to remember the flurry of things that went on that day. Their family's condition being the disaster it turned to be. "His status changed drastically after we arrived. They asked me to transfer him to another hospital, a better hospital. The ambulance never made it."

 

"The ambulance?"

 

"There was a second accident." When there hadn't been any outward reaction displayed on Yuuta's face, Yumiko felt irked. At each word she added, the more she ate on her fear. "Crashed! Overturned! He died in the second, Yuuta!" They tasted the bitter information they just swallowed whole, and since the three years that passed, Yumiko cried openly for the first time. "Dear God, and it was my fault... Mine. All mine..."

 

One thought kept Yuuta from immediately consoling his now distraught sister. If Yumiko, an objective and non-self-depreciating woman, couldn't forgive herself and her own brother, how much more for Shuusuke who always blames himself and cares too much until it hurts himself? Somehow Yuuta knew Shuusuke would never in this life do so. Reaching out awkwardly from the other side of desk, Yuuta rubbed Yumiko's back. The legal papers scattered from the sudden movement. The lamp fell and shattered, and Yuuta's own world did a parallel rendition of the glass light.

---

 

Inui regarded the congregation of men outside the Fuji household carefully. This was originally a private affair between him, Kikumaru, Fuji and maybe Fuji Yuuta. For one Fuji didn't even know they were coming. He scowled. He'd mistakenly assumed Oishi was told and his oversight triggered this chain reaction. From Oishi to Kawamura to Momoshiro to Echizen to Kaidoh. And Kikumaru was waving his large arms because Inui had 'tattled'. Right. As if he would. It wasn't his fault that the Golden Pair still refused to pick up the pieces of their cracked selves. Now, if they just acted like the adults they were, Oishi wouldn't have gone to Kawamura for answers their resident chef obviously didn't have. So he washed his hands of why this blew up several times out of proportion.

 

"Hurry up, Inui-sempai."

 

He raised a brow at the gruff impatient call - such cheek could only be labeled with one of his test subjects. Pity it wasn't the cuter one.

 

"It's getting cold," Ah. Now that the younger man had mentioned it, the light morning snow was more obvious. "and the added weight you gave Kaidoh-sempai is making his arm fall off." He blamed his zoning out on Kikumaru. Of course being shaken by such 0.01 chance of error was no excuse either.

 

"Shut up, kid. Let Inui-sempai finish what he's doing."

 

Inui glanced up from his notebook and thanked his training to be mindful to prepare an extra portion. Always. Tezuka's tips on Teammates Popping Up 101 had been helpful as well. However it was odd for that person to be absent himself on something like this. "Yes, we're here to offer, not to require." Several agreements in varying reluctance later they rang the doorbell.

 

Fuji Yumiko, age 32, single despite the many rumored suitors acquired, answered the door. Inui's only word was "Oha" before he got rudely pulled in. Barely able to take off his shoes and ushered to the kitchen sink. Not that he couldn't do a menial task such as fixing a leak, but the pertinent question was: Why him? Taking this event in circumspect, he surmised that the absence of the ugly green uniform would probably have prevented the misunderstanding. But really, the likeliness of him being mistaken as a plumber should be slim, around ten percent, especially in the house of a friend. Okay, who was he fooling? He didn't have statistics for that.

 

Fairly sure he heard all the others shuffle to be seated across the counter, he didn't bother hurrying. He fumbled with the tools dropped on him and ignored the curses strung under Fuji Yumiko's breath. With one last turn of the wrench, some elbow grease and his improvements care of AoPeppaJiru it should take few years before the leak starts again. Content with his good deed for the day, he dusted himself off and wiped his hands on the nearest rag.

 

Ignoring the sniggering upon his return, Inui sat himself on the most inviting seat. Kaidoh's unflinching reaction was very much welcome. The younger man scooted closer to Oishi leaving enough space for Inui. Across them, Echizen smirked wider than he'd ever seen before; Momoshiro was trying to swallow down his loud guffaws, and Kawamura looked determined to not start of laughing again. If anyone noticed Kikumaru's humorless reaction (or his large ass hogging one sofa all to himself) no one mentioned it.

 

When still none of the Fujis came to meet them again after exactly ten minutes and six seconds of waiting, Kikumaru stood and rushed to his best friend's room. Someone shouted. Inui didn't know who it was but it was definitely not Fuji or Eiji. The voice was five notes lower than the tensai's and was likewise an octave below the acrobat's. Vaguely he could make out the whining "Shuu" and the upset "Fine!" but if the joyous look plastered on Eiji's face and the triumphant one on Fuji's were any indication, the third person's absence was a good thing.

 

"I'm game for this recall thing." Fuji cut in before Inui could even land in one explanation. Brushing the interruption off, he imperviously delivered the explanation anyway.

 

"The results could mean nothing and anything at the same time. It's up to you, Fuji. In the end, we will try to make a theory. If you want to stop at any time just say so. To everyone uninvited, listen so you may participate as well.

 

"There are illustration boards and chalk pieces in Kaidoh's bag. Please get one set, all of you. This will be a simple game of who remembers the most. It is similar to getting drunk in a bar and reminiscing the good and the bad, minus the booze. I will ask a question and everyone all answer. Those who fail to answer correctly will drink my new vegetable juice - watered down for this occasion. You should be happy to know my students take this watered down version so far as the third glass before they do what you all fondly describe as worse than inevitable death."

 

The group looked unhealthily pale, and upon inspection, Fuji Yuuta was present, wavering slightly with nausea at the thought. Kikumaru jumped at this proclamation, exclaiming the uselessness of the game if Fuji passed out on them. Thankfully, Fuji didn't disappoint in claiming he'd enjoy drinking it and might even answer falsely on purpose just to do so.

 

"If you decide to participate, Yuuta, I won't penalize you because of your large handicap." That way he'd learn also of how great Mizuki was as an informant. Turning his attention to Fuji he asked, "Do you have somewhere you prefer to do this?"

 

"Here. Let me just get some extra chairs from the kitchen so we can get comfortable."

 

The Fuji brothers returned with the promised additional seats, and everyone set to rearranging the living room so that they had their backs to each other with Inui at the middle. Oishi decided on this so that no one would incur undue humiliation by broadcasting his poor memory on the matter. The only give away would be their reactions to Inui's tasteful juice or if Inui decided to announce it himself. His AoPeppaJiru had been displayed proudly on the dining table even though Yuuta protested adamantly to having something "toxic" on top of where he ate. The bottles were henceforth relocated to the front of each player with an accompanying plastic cup.

 

With some more shuffling and chattering, everyone settled down in their triangle. There were now two people to a love seat and with an insertion of one person at two corners. The Fuji brothers hold claim to one sofa as did Momoshiro and Echizen. Kawamura took the additional chair and squeezed between the corner closest to him, between Echizen and Kaidoh. Kikumaru opted to stay beside Fuji, copied Kawamura by squeezing between the two sofas and inched farther away from the only possible seat Oishi could take. Inui waltzed between the small path Kikumaru provided and waited for Oishi to decide to join or not. The medical student sat down.

 

"Very well, let's start. Who was the boy fortunate enough to be pushed into the girls' locker room at our Junior High Nationals?"

 

Someone sputtered and several people, including Fuji laughed.

 

"You can't be serious!" Oishi wailed.

 

"Oh my god that was a day to remember." Momoshiro said in between guffaws.

 

The boards came up with one answer: Echizen. The boy wisely chose to keep quiet and glare at Momoshiro for laughing at him. It was beyond the boy's imagination how a simple mistake on his choice of shorts, one which was later pegged on his cousin Nanako, could make him anything close to feminine.

 

Coughing for effect, he continued, "The person who got groped seven times in the train one day."

 

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW THAT?" Momoshiro exclaimed. Everyone turned to stare at the overbearing teen wide eyed, and Inui answered. "I didn't. Thanks for your patronage Momo. Where did the club go as an out of the country trip?"

 

Unsurprisingly everyone got it correct. Except Fuji still downed his share of the noxious health drink. " Fuji?"

 

Collecting his thoughts, Fuji put a finger to his chin and tapped it. "The point is why. If I can't remember how, when or what, it would be normal. But if I can't remember why then anything corollary to it shouldn't be considered right?"

 

Quickly moving to the next question, Inui didn't wait for the group's reaction. He tested a particularly loaded question though not something outrageously obvious.

 

"Kirihara will never be our favorite Rikkaidai player, why?"

 

This was a question everyone had a different answer to. Though it was not to say that they didn't like Kirihara now but the man did incur grudges against most of them back in the day. The list of the members holding some resentment towards him had Fuji at the top. Again Fuji drank from his cup with flourish and a smile, waving for him to hurry and move on. "The only team recorded to ever pass out on a tournament because of a sudden epidemic of stomach pain."

 

No one seemed to remember the answer to Inui's random question. No one wanted to complain, seeing that they'd be admitting to memory failure but Inui calculated that 87.5% were cursing him for playing this. The 12.5% were still raking their memory if they could summon up the event somehow. Calling for time, Inui was surprised someone suddenly began writing, and it was Fuji. Fuji laughed behind his illustration board clearly remembering how Ginka looked as they said they'd pass on their turn and were sick.

 

After Fuji composed himself and several strangled yells, they continued. There was a small interruption for fear that Kikumaru was too weak and gave in so soon but was resolved after threatening him with another cup.

 

"This person kisses anyone, anything when he gets terribly drunk."

 

After a stunned silence there was a frenzy of writing. However only half the group got this, considering Tezuka only ever got that wasted in that particularly happy night of graduation. An added factor was that someone spiked the juice, and with Tezuka's thick and unfeeling palate, Inui doubted he noticed the thin lacing of alcohol at the time. Fuji couldn't remember this event either, even if they shared a particularly long; longer than anyone else's by two minutes and twenty nine seconds, and drunken snog. And even Yuuta could.

 

"Hmm… I didn't know buchou was a kiss drunk."

 

"No one could have, you idiot."

 

"Shut up, mamushi!"

 

The two barked at each other from the top of their lungs no matter that they faced a wall instead of his rival's face. Kikumaru eagerly passed the four their respective glasses and motioned to drink up. "Nya, he's very good at it, ya'know."

 

"Eiji!"

 

Oishi blushed so hard that the tips of his ears were red. His reprimand earned him a harsh glare from his previous doubles partner.

 

"Saa, he must be if it makes even you lick your lips, Oishi. What do you think Taka-san?"

 

"BURNING PASSION! Come on!"

 

There were three over dramatic strangled shrieks which Inui paid no heed to. "Next, this person is almost always accosted for no apparent reason by elders, animals and bikes."

 

Kaidoh breathed out heavily at the snickering this question incurred from everyone and bellowed "Next." Slightly relieved Fuji got that one correct, Inui obliged to the request.

 

"According to the Jr. Tennis magazines, this is one of the most remarkable matches Akutagawa Jirou and Yuuta has lasts how long? An estimate is acceptable."

 

"Hey I resent that!" Yuuta grumbled while writing his answer and avoided looking at the unmoving hand of his brother.

 

Aside from Fuji everyone got it perfectly, and Inui was beginning to understand the pattern of where things fell and where things kept intact. If he read Fuji correctly before, although he doubted he did so fully, then the items the man missed had answers that were potentially hurting. Pushing forward, he tried a particularly silly one. "This person has a perfect record in the interclub championships."

 

The surprising thing to note was not everyone could remember Fuji's ridiculous want to always be champion, even if it meant joining an event with zero participants, especially if it meant joining an event with zero participants. Fuji was grinning at the harebrained question but made no move to chide those who forgot and nearly passed out.

 

Making one last trial at his Emotions Theory, Inui pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and asked, "Who dived from the third floor to save a mistakenly thrown birthday present and friendship gift for whom?"

 

This was one of the more famous birthday stories to circle Seigaku, and it was doubtless that Yuuta knew of this silly tale as well. It was the story of Kikumaru and Fuji in their first year and how the redhead almost missed February 29. Fuji claimed it was what made their friendship. Kikumaru however believed it was more as something that nearly broke it. Thus, he dove from that height every year even if it wasn't a leap year. And Fuji couldn't remember it.

 

Kikumaru butted in before Inui could administer any preventive measures by latching onto Fuji's left arm. "What was my first birthday gift to you?"

 

"Film and toothpaste."

 

"No one ever did say why it was thrown out right?" Oishi asked after noticing the fidgety look on Eiji.

 

Embarrassed Kikumaru flushed and glared. "I tripped. It flew from my hand so I jumped for it."

 

"Mada mada dane, Kikumaru-sempai."

 

"You brat! Ochibi!"

 

"Oi Eiji-sempai, what are you touching!"

 

"You stupid oversized lummox!"

 

"What did you call me you slithering, forked tongue, snake?"

 

"An idiot with a pea sized brain"

 

"Momoshiro-san, Kaidoh-san will you stop that shouting!"

 

"Momo, Kaidoh, this isn't the time to fight."

 

Yoshiko entered the room in its current pandemonium. Several times she tried to speak up but was overpowered by a different booming voice each time. Amused at the silly rough and tumble fun the men too old to be playing were having, she moved along carrying her morning groceries. She was stopped however by Rowe as she set for her room. They regarded each other quietly. When she had motioned to excuse herself, Rowe shook his head, took her bags and guided her back to the disruptive foray of friends.

 

"Shuusuke! Okaa-san's home." The boys froze in whatever awkward position they were in. Truth be told, Yoshiko found them comical. Still she felt the irritation radiate from the European.

 

Bowing to the group in respect, she greeted them gaily. "Hai, tadaima." This was replied by several hushed 'excuse me's and two startled 'welcome home's. Finally recognizing Rowe's dilemma, she motioned for her son's boyfriend to come closer. "Jealousy has an ugly face, Rowe-san." She whispered in his ear. His deflated reaction went unnoticed as she called attention to herself again. "I'll prepare some snacks and tea. Shuusuke, would you help us with these, please? Rowe-san, please lead the way."

 

Their silent trip to the kitchen made the scraping sound of wood against wood painfully clear. Yoshiko set to sorting the newly bought items as soon as her son set them down. "Shuusuke, have you introduced Rowe-san properly?" She barely heard Shuusuke's answer as she took out trays from the cupboards. Pausing from her search of a proper serving tray, she took note of the slightly smug expression on Rowe's face and the guilty one on Shuusuke. If she didn't know better, she'd have said they were twelve-year-old kids caught in a fight.

 

"Then let us make an opportunity for you to do so. Oh and Rowe-san, I would like to introduce you to daifuku. I heard from Shuusuke you like really sweet things. I got us some dango too but we will keep those for later. Now take those white cakes out and set them on some plates. Shuusuke, go make some tea. I believe we have some kocha that Rowe-san has grown to love. I will be in my room to clear up. Your father may come home soon." She said as she busied herself with her own task of cleaning up. Finishing quickly, she walked up to Shuusuke and engulfed him in a hug so strong no one would think it possible from her stature. "I am sure you are not going to tell me again, Shuusuke but I refuse to lose you over a fight, okay? Remember that please."

 

Though Shuusuke didn't know for all he was worth if there was any reference to any fight in the past he could feel the thrumming pain, guilt and sadness in his mother's entreaty. "I will, and don't worry. We'll be okay, kaasan. He's just not used to me having a lot of friends." He spoke loud enough to be heard by the accused. With the answer she received, Yoshiko shook her head and left.

 

"I do not think it unusual you have many friends!" Rowe screeched as soon as Yoshiko was gone. He had washed his hands in the sink and yelled in frustration when it leaked to his pants for the second time since his arrival.

 

Fuji rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the hot water he was boiling. It wasn't so much that there truly was a reason for the fight they had a few minutes before his high school friends came. It was more that they suddenly became antagonistic towards each other without meaning to. They both knew it. They just didn't know why it started. At least that was what Fuji assumed. "Keep your voice down."

 

Careful steps were taken towards him. Hands held him in place, and Fuji didn't have to turn around to know the sorry face Rowe had when he at least tried to explain. It wasn't pathetic in that the man used the waterworks or some supposedly cute pout. It was the terse line on his lips as if he wanted to say something but opted to say something else. It was the knowing gleam in his eyes that said he understood but chose not to anyway. It was the distance he held him, so close yet so far as well, as if he was scared of what Fuji would do. Maybe Fuji was reading all of these too much but if asked for a reason behind the unexpected hostility, this would be his answer.

 

"Shuu," Rowe whispered, and instead of comforting Fuji, it increased the annoyance he felt. "Look, I'm sorry I reacted hotly this morning, and maybe you're right I'm not used to you gathering so many friends at once. It's just -"

 

The kettle sang, and Fuji had a perfect excuse to shrug Rowe's hands off his shoulders. Turning the stove off, he let the packets of tea steep inside. Brusquely, he was pulled away from the hot surface and pushed against the counter. Any of Fuji's descriptions were off the mark. Rowe was furious, and Fuji couldn't comprehend why. "Look, I know you see me as an ass recently but why don't you look at yourself for once. I just want to spend a day with you and your friends come. Of course I feel irritated and I did apologize but you...You shut me off completely without me knowing why."

 

Fuji couldn't believe the nonsense spewing from Rowe's mouth. He could puke from the self-pitying act he could see coming. "Stop the apologetic crap, Leon. You know as well as I do that you're feeling vindicated. You're vindicated now that you can have a reason to put the blame on me, now that I'm doing something you can point to as the reason for this stupid fight."

 

"What is wrong with you? I'm trying to make things work out here."

 

"What's wrong with me? Why don't you tell me? You're the one who remembers more than I do. You should be able to read me better than I can, right?" Fuji looked at Rowe straight in the eye. Though he spoke instinctively, it was the truth.

 

Exasperated, Rowe finally let go, took three steps away from Fuji and laughed emptily. "That's what this is about? How many times do I…?"

 

"No, you listen. I'm done hearing you talk. How can you tell me it's easy to believe you don't know anything? How can you tell me, Shuusuke, I'm so sorry I didn't know you have amnesia but let's get over that quickly and continue on our little unplanned honeymoon, mm'kay? How can you tell me you love me when you don't know who I am?" When Rowe didn't seem to have an answer, Fuji took the trays and deftly kept them in balance as he sped out. He almost missed Rowe's answer; one he believed not meant to be said aloud.

 

"You're Fuji Shuusuke, the person who ground my heart into hamburger and enjoyed it."

---

 

In the middle of that freezing December day, phantoms of children laughed across the playground. The cold wind blew on the squeaking merry-go-round and seesaws singing shriller than nails on a blackboard. Every now and then, snow fell on top of the busy bodies moving hurriedly at the periphery. Two men stood unperturbed by the flurry of people a few meters from them. One man with fine dark almost ink-like blue hair and eyes that matched it equally in depth and color read a short nondescript letter. He sat on the swing reaching farther down with his legs stretched idly prompting his seat to sway back and forth.

 

To his right was another man with dark brown hair. His green eyes watched the overcast sky above them. He stood, forcefully pushing at the metal seat. Each thought passing him slipped along with the slow moving clouds. At every foreign movement, his eyes followed like a beacon and an idle theory or two came not a second too late. Saeki sighed for the umpteenth time. Noticing the other man shift in his seat, Saeki paid the most discrete attention he could give him. He liked to pry things apart and put them back except he couldn't do this with an invisible barrier hovering over them. Let it not be said that he was not friendly. Let it not be said that Yukimura was nothing but the same. However no matter whatever they struck up as conversation would only die with much left to be desired.

 

"Yukimura-san,"

 

"Yes?"

 

Saeki fidgeted on the small swing he forced himself to be comfortable with. To say he actually liked him was too much of a leap. To say he hated him was even farther. The difficulty at hand was that he'd never spoken to the man on a personal note ever before. Hence it made him mistrustful of any motion or motive. But if Kikumaru said be a good boy, then good boy he would be, else his head would be bitten off in the few seconds he'd be in the jealous best friend's presence. "I don't...dislike you."

 

Chuckling, Yukimura shook his head. "You don't have to fear me either, Sae-san."

 

Saeki laughed weakly along with Yukimura but at the back of his mind he was sure the three men, two of whom he considered friends, planned on a prank somewhere in here today. Oh he'd heard of those days in Senior High School after Fuji and Yukimura got to know each other very well. He was sure if at least Yukimura wasn't up to date with their plans they could very well communicate to each other in his presence and he wouldn't know a thing. Then throw in a little of Kikumaru's craziness...How could they expect him to keep up with all that?

 

Already he could hear Dabide's puns: Saeki, saa akuheki! He swatted the annoying fly roving by his ear. It had looked oddly and incidentally like Dabide. Succumbing to the bad pun care of his Dabide sympathizing brain, he sighed again. Doubting was a bad habit. Doubting his childhood best friend was the worst. But really Fuji acting so unusual made it hard not to. While he was still reluctantly competing with Kikumaru as to who had the number one spot on Fuji's friendship, he had to admit he wasn't doing a good job of protecting or even maintaining his spot anyway. He ran a hand over his newly unbleached bangs (damn company rules), blew hard and watched them fall quickly into place. Right. Trust. Childhood bestfriendship meant trust no matter what the odds.

 

With extra effort he pushed against the criss-crossing railing behind him. His swing gained velocity with each push and kick. Soon the gravel, snow and sand were white lines speeding up and slowing down alternately. With a last powerful heave he could already feel the weightlessness that preempted the falling. Hopping mid-fall, Saeki landed with a flourish, stood in front of Yukimura, who didn't seem impressed but certainly piqued with small interest, and held the iron chains of the small swing beside his own. Yukimura's full attention caught, he did what instinct ordered him to do: bow low, introduce yourself and if you embarrass yourself blush and run for the high hills. "Good day, my name is Saeki, Kojiro. Yoroshiku ne."

 

Amused, Yukimura stood on his seat, bowed awkwardly while wrapping his arms against the metal chains of the swing and offered the same graciousness Saeki gave him. "Likewise, I'm Yukimura Seiichi. I graduated from an escalator school known as Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku. History may not affirm it but I enjoyed playing with Rokkaku Chuu as I have enjoyed playing with everyone. So I'd like to thank their vice-captain very much."

 

That admission must have taken a lot from the previous Rikkaidai captain but Saeki's only response was to act nonplussed. "Can you repeat that last part?" He watched the blue haired man level his eyes with him and realized that was a one in a lifetime experience he acquired. "Er - we would have enjoyed our games too Yukimura-san."

 

"I know. Tough, Akaya's too wild. So let's not talk about our past rivalries and match grudges." Yukimura jumped from the swing and shook Saeki's hand perfunctorily. "Wonder what Fuji's up to?"

 

Saeki blinked then knotted his eyebrows together. He asked that same question previously but was clipped with a saa ne and ignored. Maybe not ignored just no more addressed than the sand on their feet. Yukimura tapped him on the shoulder and explained in hushed tones. "He has visited you, has he not? Compared to you, Fuji and I are more like pen pals. The last I heard from him was three weeks ago, right before his graduation. So I honestly do not know."

 

"Pen pals?" Raising an eyebrow at the concept, Saeki watched for any signs of lying and found none.

 

"I had to apologize for Akaya." Yukimura said by way of explanation on what Saeki considered preposterous in this day and age. "If it were not for that, I probably would never have even considered talking to Fuji. Besides, Fuji writes very animated letters. I felt it only polite to reply in kind. Speaking of which he asked me to bring any letters I may have kept." Yukimura gestured to the paper bag between their respective swings.

 

Saeki didn't have enough time to feel any guilt for not replying as eagerly to Fuji's letters. The subject of their discussion walked up to them but with no red haired acrobat in tow. It was when Fuji had reached out not for him but for Yukimura first that he realized what a bad friend he truly had been. Self-depreciating notions bubbled up his throat. If this was what they wanted to point out, Fuji didn't have to prance around with a sign plastered: Evil Saeki, we hate you. He would have handled not being talked to better.

 

He immediately regretted thinking anything of the sort when he saw the pained expression on Fuji as he came up from the spontaneous hug with Yukimura and gave him one as well. Then he heard a barely reigned in sob. He could have mistaken it for a cough really but the wet spot on his shirt proved otherwise. In all the time he'd known Fuji, only once had the man ever cried, and Fuji was completely calm about it too, finally losing an official match like that and all. This was as much as admitting a complete breakdown. " Fuji? What's wrong? Hey, don't - "

 

"Nothing - well no, not nothing - I have amnesia. And is it just me or is everyone else finding this admission funny too?"

 

Treating Fuji like the boy Fuji grew out of too fast to just be, Yukimura patted him, made figure eights on the man's back and almost lovingly cooed. "You're rambling."

 

Fuji mumbled against Saeki's shoulder. His words were hard to make out at first but they grew stronger with each passing second. "Well, I haven't had enough time to absorb all of it, and when I saw Saeki, it was hard not to ask myself: How much of your childhood best friend have you forgotten? Everything came crashing on me."

 

There was an ache in Saeki's heart and if he could ask the idiot muscle to stop beating he would, useless person that he is. How could he have treated Fuji so badly and still get this much appreciation? Reaching up to encircle his arms around Fuji, he whispered an apology. The question forming in Fuji's lips died when Saeki had hugged him so tightly, it was difficult to breathe.

 

When Fuji had clambered out of the tight hug, he took a seat on the swing Yukimura had previously occupied and waited for the other two to follow. "I was having suspicions I had Alzheimer's, Tezuka and Yuuta suggested something else. Inui theorized and explained just over lunch in fact that I may have forgotten anyone who may have hurt me directly or indirectly."

 

Yukimura squeezed Fuji's shoulder, meaning to be comforting, and voiced his apprehension. "I don't think reading your letters is such a good idea, then. Not yet anyway. It's not a good idea to force yourself to remember, is it?" Yukimura looked to Saeki for some support. With a lapse in judgment, Saeki couldn't answer quickly enough and almost felt the brunt force of sweet sarcasm.

 

Biting his lips to prevent any form of protest to break out, Saeki proposed an alternative that crossed his mind. "Have you tried talking to people? Getting to know them again?"

 

Fuji tipped his head to the side in consternation. "Getting to know Seigaku again would take at least two days."

 

Liking his idea more and more, Saeki shook his head and grinned. "We'll go with Inui's theory. That way we can cut down time."

 

With a bit of thought, Yukimura agreed. "Number one should be Tezuka."

 

Saeki considered it and concluded they couldn't have chosen anyone else better. Tezuka as captain hurt and support his team simply by his presence, or lack of it, in so many ways. With him, they were high in morale. Without him, they carried on like a military man with a wounded arm and a severed leg, loyal and firm but broken nonetheless. In retrospect, though it was bad for his own team, he was glad Seigaku kept on winning. A broken man with dreams at least had his dreams to catch. Completely shattering their dreams would be weights while they sank and drowned.

 

That was Tezuka as a captain. Tezuka as a person, on the other hand, was a separate issue in itself for Fuji.

 

Fuji wasn't friendly before. He was nice but he wasn't friendly. Saeki and the Fuji brothers stuck together as close as they could. There were a few acquaintances here and there but none more than that. The Fujis' transfer did a lot of good for everyone. Saeki gained a more concrete definition of friendship, and the Fujis learned to reach out to other people. Kikumaru was probably infectious enough for Fuji to grasp the man's friendship concept. And Saeki surmised the first person he tried it with was Tezuka but neither of the two has actually arrived at anything with finality. It seemed they kept going, traveling separate endless roads only to end up together again.

 

Remarkably but unsurprisingly, Tezuka took both the number one and number two spot. Now for number three. So deep in thought was Saeki, he didn't recognize the telling signs on Fuji's face or the alarmed one on Yukimura.

 

"Let's skip number one." Dismissing the notion, Fuji stood and grabbed for the paper bag to his side. Fuji stared openly at Saeki then at Yukimura with the pretense of guardedness. Finally giving in, he muttered, "He's in a coma, and it may be my fault."

 

Outraged at the self-loathing, Saeki shook Fuji's shoulders hard the other man had to let go of the paper bag. The letters flew upon the forceful fall and scattered against the snow. "How could you conclude that so quickly? Stop that! What? Because you forgot a part of him?"

 

"Erm - no Saeki. Some people followed me last time, and while I'm not sure but an ambush could very well be from one of my pursuers."

 

Both Yukimura and Saeki stared at Fuji as if he earned a second head. "And you're prancing here alone!" Saeki exclaimed, immediately suspicious of anyone that may be around.

 

Concerned, Yukimura asked, "Do you know who they are?"

 

Waving to someone out of their sight, Fuji answered. "On both accounts, no."

 

"I wasn't asking." Saeki sniffed, squinted and saw Seigaku regulars just by the corner. Upon receiving recognition, several of them dispersed and Kikumaru sprinted towards their little group of three. "Shouldn't you go to the police?"

 

"Tezuka has evidence but I don't. True, I was assaulted in Fukuoka but because I was stupid, I don't have the records to show for it. With how the police work, you know it'll take more than a claim for them to move."

 

"What of Tezuka's case?"

 

"They're on it. Soon enough, they'll interview me, I guess." Kikumaru arrived a little out of breath, and Fuji continued. "Look, only five people outside of family and hospital personnel know of Tezuka: You three, me and Atobe. Let's not get this out of hand." With a meaningful look thrown at the surprised Kikumaru, Fuji added. "Not even Oishi."

 

"But he deserves to know." Kikumaru whined.

 

"I did this out of a selfish reason, Eiji. I'm telling you three because you're my closest friends and I respect your opinions highly. I need to know what to do because I'm certainly at a loss but I'm not going to extend my selfishness to compromise the family's well-being so much that everyone knows." Fuji closed his eyes and smiled. It was as if he'd been at it with Eiji in the past three hours since they were called to this park. "So who's next on the list?"

 

Alienated by the sudden change of topic, Kikumaru followed with his eyes the non-verbal exchange among the three friends. Fuji was waiting expectantly, and Saeki and Yukimura were sharing a look of thoughtfulness. Then Yukimura broke the silence with his list. "Shiraishi, Mizuki, Tachibana, Sanada, Kirihara. Not necessarily in that order but Shiraishi definitely tops that list. Add in Atobe and Akutagawa as well."

 

Saeki nodded as if coming to the same list stated previously. "I think I can contact Shiraishi and Tachibana."

 

"And I'll fix you up with Genichirou and Akaya. But," Yukimura skeptical from the very beginning, inquired. "I'm sure this isn't why you called us, so?"

 

Fuji's face broke into an unrestrained grin. "Remember that western country style rocking chair I was telling you about?"

 

"The antique one?" When the image and description matched in Yukimura's mind he nodded for Fuji to continue.

 

"I finally coaxed them to sell it. It's yours for 10,000 yen. Pick it up when you're free. And Saeki," Shifting his attention from the now ecstatic Yukimura to the disgruntled Saeki, Fuji queried. "How much is your mother selling those zabutons I liked again?"

 

Saeki remembered those. They were the most expensive set but they were also the most beautiful. His mother spent a lot of time into making them but rarely did anyone buy them. They were soft and silky to touch. The embroidery she placed was already an additional feature she did not charge. Else the price would be little over than what she was selling for it. "10,000 yen a set."

 

"I'll buy them."

 

"Mou, Fuji," Kikumaru huffed, gathered the seemingly forgotten letters at their feet and offered the string to the group in general "you shouldn't have bothered everyone for things you can do over the phone."

 

Taking the bag Fuji laughed. "Ah, but then they would be sold and bought meaningless. Besides, I missed Yukimura and Saeki."

---

 

Fuji believed in the elegance of personal ceremonies. Objects were unchanging and bland until they were made into symbols, reflecting, possibly mirroring one's own flickering life. They would ground his purpose and make clear his path. A golden tennis racket was just an expensive flashy ball swatter until he made it his declaration to be unbeaten.

 

Permission to sell their old rocking chair had not been difficult to acquire. He simply asked right after the game Inui had orchestrated and was allowed to do so. The price was even at his discretion. There were no more good memories with that rocking chair, now that mother refused to knit by the porch. He would replace it with several new plump zabutons. At the moment, they had no place in the house, not even in his room. Their placement, he knew, would come as a revelation when he acquired closure with the minor hitch present in his life. Worrying much like the rocking chair, only gave him things to idle around the problem, but not a thing about it. Planning, however, needs time, calm and peace, just like what the zabuton provided.

 

With those thoughts, Fuji drifted into the hospital room on the high cloud of happiness. He barely missed the beautifully written note on Tezuka's side table.

 

To Shuusuke-kun,

 

Forgive the abruptness but our little chat over tea will have to be postponed. I also have Yukio-kun with me, so no one will trouble you today.

 

Kunimitsu would enjoy it if you stayed, dear, but it's no obligation. I disclosed my number in case you need anything.

 

Ayana

 

P.S. I found these albums while I cleaned Tezuka's bedroom today. I'm under the impression he'd want to return them to you.

 

Fuji skimmed over the pages and flipped it to the very end. Chewed over what the pictures might actually mean and decided he would overstep the small privacy issue considering he was being encouraged to do so by a higher authority. Turning the book back to the first page, he recognized his own scrawl at the hard cover and the three places the first three pictures were found. Surprisingly, they weren't pictures of London or Oxford. They were from Munich.

 

Around the letter were droplet stains, minutely browned from residual oil, and thinned paper from water smatterings. Each circle seemed a different age. Some had more dust clinging to its area. Others barely had black flecks on them. But none were too old or too young in creation. It was as if this cover was religiously touched and held for a time.

 

The flower that rippled on the water's surface

falls, fleetingly and therefore violently.

Forever, in my heart, the you of that day

and that smile will not fade, and cannot be erased.

Because I realize now that everyone will definitely some day

leave on their own journey, goodbye, goodbye...

Why?

Engraved into time, for eternity

 

To Kunimitsu Tezuka,

I miss you. For the you next month. Happy Birthday.

Shuusuke Fuji

 

Tracing his signature, Fuji stopped breathing and awkwardly fell to the stool behind him. He couldn't bring himself to stroke the actual words no matter how greatly compelled he was. His hand hovered over each kana, and he willed himself to feel the indents made on the cardboard leaf. Each downward line felt like a stab on his hand, and each horizontal line felt like a cut on his arm.

 

Forcing himself to move his attention away from the intimately written letter, he focused on the first pictures. Munich was a place he'd visited twice - once with the tennis club and the other with Leon as his guide. But he captured neither face nor presence of his self-appointed escort.

 

He hardly recognized Kristov Avenue in the second. Were it not for the slanted street sign at the side, he wouldn't have. The cobble stone road was strewn with color by the various stores, stalls and stands. Shoppers of all shapes and sizes filled the street. They went to all directions; stopped at random places. It was a jam-packed hustle and bustle save for a clearing in the lower right corner. Seemingly a force gravitated people away from a wide semicircle providing a place for isolation.

 

The second photo was taken from the high tower of St. Peter's Cathedral. The unfamiliar red-roofed buildings were enough of a hint added to the give away of the archaic architecture of the Town Hall in one corner. The setting sun led the bleeding sky towards dusk, and a lone woman nursing her wounded shoulder stood with the city literally at her feet. She looked over the emptying streets and gripped the railing with her free hand. A shadow was cast on over half of her figure but the bright glean in her eyes was caught perfectly.

 

The last he guessed was of Olympiapark from the rotating Drehrestaurant. The surrounding tables were empty, and the view taken was none too great compared to what he knew he could take. Barely visible on the ground were the multitudes of tennis courts and on the horizon the snowy alps. Untouched food and coffee waited as if expectant of its owner. A racket occupied an otherwise empty seat, and a pendant was strung to the racket's gut, caught glinting against the sunlight.

 

Intuitively, Fuji ripped the plastic cover from the adhesive, carefully held each photograph, turned them over and arranged them in the correct order. Pencil marks were on their backs, always one phrase on top and another at the bottom. He read it from the topmost downwards.

 

Where's the real you?

Everyday we see each other yet it feels like it's been so long.

 

I was blessed to come here.

It's great that you came.

 

Nothing compares to standing on the court and playing.

Then I'll be waiting for you.

 

Closing the album slowly, Fuji thrust it into the satchel of clothes he barely managed to smuggle. He was exhausted but at least not depressed as he was inclined to feel as of late. The scribbled lines meant nothing yet everything at the same time. That "everything" made him thrum with anxiety and anticipation. The ambivalence pulled him apart harshly, and it wasn't because he was scared to find out what the words meant but he was terrified he would confirm what they conveyed.

 

The door gave way to Sengoku and an empty food cart he pushed along. "Long day?"

 

Answering with a wry grin, Fuji nodded. "Not short enough to skip this drama."

 

Sengoku requested him to move aside and did what seemed like a physical work up with Tezuka. "I spoke with the nurse in charge. Did you receive the mother's message?"

 

"Yeah. I got a present too."

 

"Alright, come here." Sengoku grabbed Fuji's hand as soon as Fuji was within reach and asked him to copy the massage procedure. "Can you imagine if you were to lie down for days, you'd want one too, right?"

 

Fuji's previous experiences affirmed Sengoku's statement. Looking back, there had been days when a simple massage did miracles for his sluggish body. He followed Sengoku's movements closely and paid special attention to muscle knots or fatigue signs. "Depends on who's giving."

 

"You mean to say I'm not good enough?" Sengoku said with a wink. He continued to the other side of Tezuka's body and pulled their patient closer to the edge when they had finished. This left enough just enough space for another person to squeeze in. The many tubes and wires attached to Tezuka were arranged neatly and farthest away from anyone who might want to invade the open area. "If you're staying, that stool is too small and that sofa's too hard."

 

Fuji gave a plaintive glance towards the stool and another more apprehensive look at the sofa. Sengoku's suggestion was off the wall. Sleeping beside Tezuka was not only an extremely intimate move but also something that could endanger his friend with the many tubes he could detach unwittingly. "My ass is burning from the hard wood actually."

 

"Fuji, seriously, sleep beside him. It might help."

 

"There are just too many - "

 

"Do you know the sound of regular breathing?"

 

"Of course."

 

"Understand when the BP monitor catches something wrong?"

 

"A bit."

 

"You wouldn't be able to detach the IV, and if you did, we'd know because of the racket all these machines would make. Besides if he talks again, this way you'll hear better or if he suddenly grabs at something, he'll be able to hold you."

 

An extreme urge to pout at Sengoku rose but was swatted by reason. "Fine." Fuji wouldn't be falling asleep in the first place. That made his objections a moot point. He was only mildly surprised that invasion of personal space wasn't an issue to him.

 

"And you'd better rest yourself too. No all-nighters."

 

His resistance to pouting was squashed by the apparent third-eye Sengoku acquired. "Do you make it a habit to read my mind?"

 

The nurse shook his head and readied to exit the room with his empty food cart. "No Fuji. You guard yourself very well that no one ever knows what you're thinking. Except you're not your usual self and this is not a usual situation."

 

Fuji clambered onto the patient bed and spooned Tezuka to himself. He watched Sengoku give Tezuka a last check up. He watched him grow irritated with a second glance to the chart. He watched him convalesce from the near debilitating face of hopelessness to the strong confidence of the faithful and commented, "You make a good nurse, Sengoku."

 

"Not good enough." Sengoku snipped quickly with clouded eyes.

 

Unconsciously Fuji hugged Tezuka closer as if by comfort he could make Sengoku's good better and his better best. "Would you like to tell me?"

 

They locked eyes, and Fuji realized how much in need Sengoku was of a friend. Someone outside all of this and would just listen. Sengoku seemed searching but whatever he was looking for he seemed to have found it as he smiled and pushed the cart out of the room. "Someday I'll tell you of the girl with schizophrenia, her father and the fire, of the two boys whose only possessions were five rusty cans and of Akutsu's mother who protected him to the very end. Right now, concentrate on making Tezuka, if not feel better, appreciate you're here."

End Chapter 11

 

 

 

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