Twisted Geometry

Summary: Imai Subaru is twelve when he realizes that he has no future. Of course, Sakurano Shuuichi always knew that. Multi-chaptered, complete in five parts- Subaru, Shuuichi. An unlikely friendship.

Warning: Introspection, fractured plot.

Set: Undefined, specific spoilers for ch 58 (The Thorny Garden), follows the series up until ch 80, AU from thereon.

Disclaimer: Standards apply.

A/N: For sweetlittle, who made me want to re-read the entire series (which I did) and begged me to write more for it. In fact, this is something I have wanted to write about for a very long time: Shuuichi and Subaru. I love those two.

And: Holiday-Update 2014. Merry Christmas (or whatever you are celebrating)!

i.

Imai Subaru is seven when he realizes they will never send his family the letters he has written, and it happens like this.

The sun is bright outside, warm and full. Summer is Subaru's favorite season. The colors are brightest in summer, the many shades of green of the trees and the brilliant red, yellow and violet of the flowers. The freshly-cleaned windows reflect the sunlight and in it, dust dances on the soft, warm currents like delicate prima ballerinas in silver costumes. When he tunes out his circumstances and focusses on his immediate surroundings, he can almost believe that he is free: that there is no Academy, that he has no Alice, and that he is at home with his parents and his little sister. The sun shatters the surface of The Pond – it is called Lake Wonder, perhaps a reference to Alice in Wonderland, but the students just call it The Pond – and illuminates two gently drifting ducks. The air is full of green: a warm, humid and familiar scent. Subaru knows this place, has known it since he turned four. In a way, it is the only place he knows. He cannot explain the yearning he feels, nevertheless, gazing over the clear water: the far side is disguised by the flittering air. A few birds drop from a nearby tree, twittering to each other, and pretend not to notice him. The scenery is peaceful. It is a stark contrast to the anger and hate Subaru feels at the moment.

Just that morning, the results of the semester exams had been posted. Not surprisingly, Subaru had received the highest possible amount of points of all elementary school students. Considering the fact that there were only nine of them, it might not have been a big deal (seven new kids had joined the elementary branch during the last year, so Subaru was no longer one of two elementary branch kids. It also meant, unfortunately, that they had to share Sensei with more kids). But Subaru had been holding his position for two years straight now, and he was also competing with the middle school branch for the position of the Honor Student. Now, in that light, his achievements were praiseworthy, as well. Of course he was sharing the first place among the elementary branch students with Shuuichi, but they had come to a mutual agreement over that topic some time ago.

"Congratulations!" Kiritani, a girl from the Somatic Ability class, smiled at him. "You did it!"

Subaru nodded curtly. Shuuichi, on his other side, rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the genius makes First again. How surprising."

"I do work for my grades, you know," Subaru said. "Other than certain people."

His parents would be so glad to hear the news. Subaru had worked so hard for this.

"I have to go," Shuuichi declared with fervor and glanced at the clock on the wall that was overgrown with violet flowers. Takeuchi-sensei, the teacher responsible for the greenhouse, was sniffing one of the blossoms with a critical expression. "There's something I have to do. I'll see you in class."

Subaru frowned but didn't say anything. It was unusual for Shuuichi to not fight back – they were always fighting, after all – but maybe he really had something important to do. In the meantime, most elementary branch students had checked on their results and had returned to wherever they had come from. Subaru collected his bag and a few books and followed in the direction Shuuichi had disappeared in. The magnitude of the situation was staggering. Being the first in class meant he had chances to the Honor Student Award. And with it, would finally be able to return home, even if it was just for a short time. He would be able to return to the village. He would be able to see the house and his room… And his parents. He would see his parents again. At the prospect, his heart picked up.

Lost in thought, Subaru was just passing by the teachers' lounge when he heard his name. It made him stop in reflex, his head turning instinctively to find the source and the face of the person who had called him.

Nobody stood in the corridor.

It didn't take much to realize someone had said his name from inside the staff room. Apparently the door was open a crack, someone having forgotten to close it completely after leaving or having been pushed open a bit by the cool wind that entered the corridor through the open window to its right. Subaru, frozen in the few seconds that realization needed to dawn completely, forced himself to concentrate. He didn't want to eavesdrop on the teachers, much less be caught while doing it. It just wasn't worth the crap Shuuichi would give him if he got caught. So when his brain caught up with reality he chose the only option he had: continue on. The mumbling voices in the teachers' lounge continued. And Subaru would have passed – would have left them behind and thought nothing of it – hadn't he heard the next words.

"He writes home every week. Do we really have to do this?"

Subaru, in the middle of a step, jerked to halt.

"It's a shame," the voice continued, distinctly female. Ceres-sensei, probably. "He doesn't even suspect a thing."

"We can't go against the Education Board's decision." This time a rumbling, male voice.

"You mean the elementary school principal's decision." Ceres-sensei sounded bitter. "It's not fair. These are kids. They need to see their parents. They need to at least be able to write to them and not to have their letters collected with the promise of sending it off and then being burnt."

"Ssshh," someone else silenced her hastily. "Don't let anyone hear you talking like that. If Hatake hears you, he'll take this straight to the Elementary School Principal, you know that."

A heavy silence fell over the room, filled with the rustling of one person standing and collecting his bag. "I have classes. See you later."

Even in the haze of shock that had descended on him, Subaru knew he had to leave. But he couldn't move, couldn't, just stood in the corridor like a statue frozen in time. The door of the staff room opened completely and Asou-sensei, the P.E. teacher, stepped outside. His eyes travelled along the otherwise empty corridor and caught sight of Subaru.

"Ceres-sensei," he said back over his shoulder. "Could you please come outside? I have to go." He did so and Ceres-sensei came to the door, immediately seeing Subaru. With a sigh, she raked a hand through her short locks.

"Subaru-kun. You shouldn't have heard that."

"You burned my letters to my parents." Subaru's own voice felt alien to him: flat and toneless.

Ceres-sensei looked sorry but it didn't matter, because she couldn't change reality. "Yes. I'm sorry, Subaru-kun, but the Academy doesn't allow contact to the family for some time. It's best of you forget about it."

"For some time? I've been here for more than one year. And forget? No." Subaru repeated the word with force, to emphasize his point. "No."

"I'm very sorry. I wish I could do something."

"NO." Subaru said it a last, final time. "Sensei, you promised. You promised you'd send our letters home. Did you burn all our letters, or only mine?"

Ceres-sensei's eyes were soft, and real pain shimmered in her eyes. "I am sorry." And she looked sorry, and Subaru knew she wasn't lying. But it wasn't enough. Subaru didn't want her to feel sorry, or to pity him or to understand. He wanted to go home, see the parents he hadn't seen for more than two years. And if this wasn't possible, he wanted to send them letters, wanted them to know he was alive and well and that he missed them. He wanted them to know that he hadn't forgotten about them, hadn't forgotten how they had laughed together, how his parents had smiled at each other and at him. He wanted-

"Perhaps, in some time," Ceres-sensei said. "Subaru-Kun, maybe in some time they will let you send letters. Maybe, if you…" But he didn't let her finish. Subaru tore away from her hand that had meant to be comforting and ran into the other direction.

He didn't even cry.

He just stood at the edge of the lake, his eyes dry and his hands turned into fists, and stared across the water, and in his mind the same words repeated themselves again and again. I am sorry. We can't go against the Elementary Division Principal. Perhaps next year. Adults were liars. They had told him he would be able to see his parents, but he couldn't. They had told him they would send out his letters, but they hadn't. They had told him lies again and again. How much of what Yukihira-sensei said was the truth, and how much was a lie, as well? How could he smile like that when he was actually betraying them, saying the things they wanted to hear but never the truth? Had everything been a lie so far, even his kind words and his bright smile? Subaru felt like screaming, kicking and hitting something. He felt like crying. Sniffling once, he forced all emotion off his face. He would not cry. Adults were liars and treated children like they were stupid. Subaru wasn't, and he wouldn't behave the way they expected him to.

The sound of rustling leaves on the ground alerted him to the approaching presence of someone else. Of course, there was only one person who would approach him, much less even talk to him.

"Skipping class?" Shuuichi stopped next to him, looking at him from the side. He was frowning. "What's wrong with you? You'll get in trouble."

"I don't care." Subaru blinked at the two ducks that had suddenly multiplied. One of them seemed to understand he was watching them and mad a display of arching her neck.

Shuuichi was quiet for some time. "You won't become Honor Student like that."

"What do I care?" Subaru stubbornly refused to look at any other place than the sky. "It's not like it means anything."

"What do you mean?" Shuuichi asked, getting angry. "You were the bastard who always went Honor Student this, Honor Student that, and now you suddenly don't care?"

"They're not sending away our letters. All these pages, all these things I wanted to tell them – they burned the letters without ever giving my parents the chance to know about me. They promised us to send them and they broke it, just like that. I guess-" he laughed bitterly and tried to choke back a sob. "Everything has been for nothing, I guess."

Angrily, he kicked at a stone in front of him. It skipped over a few other stones and came to a stop as it lost its momentum, still far from The Pond.

Shuuichi finally broke the silence, his voice taut. "Who told you that?"

"Nobody. I head Ceres-sensei talk to some other teachers."

"Maybe you misunderstood her. Maybe she just thought…"

"She talked to me afterwards." Subaru levelled an icy glare at his friend. "She said she was sorry. She's a liar. All grown-ups are liars." And you, of all, should know the truth when you hear it.

"But Sensei," Shuuichi protested, vehemently. "Sensei keeps his promises. He doesn't lie to us."

"Of course not," Subaru mocked. "Because all adults feel like they owe us children."

Shuuichi glowered. "Sensei's not like all adults."

"Why are you defending him!" Subaru whirled around, his fists balled. "He's one of them! If the teachers follow the rules and do what the Principal says, they're not better than him! Yukihira-Sensei is no better than the others!"

"Don't say that." Shuuichi's grey eyes were burning now. "Sensei always helped us. Yuka-sempai trusts him! I am sure-"

"You know nothing, so shut up!"

They stared at each other hard over their tightened fists and tensed shoulders. Neither one of them seemed to even breathe.

"You haven't even spoken to him yet," Shuuichi finally said, accusingly. "Maybe all of it was a mistake."

"Why are you trying so hard to be blinded?" Subaru demanded. "You know as well as I do that the teachers cannot go against the education board. Yuka-sempai told us the Elementary Principal was dangerous, and those who go against him have disappeared. So what should Yuki-sensei do? He can't do anything, that's what he can do. I see that, and you should be able to see it, too. You're normally capable to rational thought – what's wrong with you today?"

Shuuichi did not look at him. "No," he said, angrily. "No. That's not true. He wouldn't – Yukihira-sensei wouldn't – and it can't be that none of our letters ever reached our families. We write so many every week, there has to be at least one – maybe one slipped through, just one letter…"

Realization dawned on Subaru for the second time of the day. He stared at Shuuichi, hard. "You knew already," he murmured. "You knew they weren't sending our letters, that's why you wrote so many every week. You were hoping one would accidentally get posted."

Shuuichi didn't deny it.

Subaru grabbed his shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me anything? You left me believing like a little kid, just pretended everything was alright when it wasn't, you bastard-"

Shuuichi slapped his hands away angrily. "So what would it have changed?" He demanded. "Would you have stomped into the Elementary Principal's office and demanded an answer?" Grey eyes flashed, fiery, and Subaru hated him for making him lose his calm, this guy who always knew what to say, which buttons to push. "They would lock you up somewhere with no food until they forget about you. You saw what they did with Yuka-sempai the one time she got caught by Hatake-sensei? When he took her to see the Principal? Is that what you want?"

"Of course not!" Subaru grabbed Shuuichi's collar and yanked him close. Shuuichi didn't try to stop him. "You still should have told me-"

"You wouldn't have listened, idiot! Look at yourself, whining like a baby, you never listen to me, I don't know why I even try…"

"I don't know why I even bother! You're an arrogant, selfish-"

"That's enough," a voice interrupted them coolly. Both Shuuichi and Subaru froze. Serina-sempai was standing behind them, no expression on her face. "You better go back before anyone catches you here."

Her glare was unmistakable. They went, slowly first and then faster until Subaru was almost running towards the dorms, Shuuichi hard on his heels.

"Where are you going, idiot? We still have classes."

Subaru didn't answer, just kept on running. He lost Shuuichi at one point, the other kid giving up the chase, and reached their room. Dropping on his bed, he buried his face in his pillow, his eyes tightly shut, and refused to cry.

I hate him.

It was easier, right now, hating Shuuichi than the Elementary School Principal or even Ceres-sensei and Yukihira-sensei. Shuuichi, after all, was right there. Always. Had always been there since he had transferred, had always been by Subaru's side. Same birth place, same age, same school. And yet – they just didn't fit. They might look like they were good friends, but they didn't go with each other. Subaru was too withdrawn and too serious. Shuuichi was too outgoing and too easy-going. They clashed in their opinions, they clashed in their beliefs, they competed for the position of First and for the Honor Student. They were rivals for Sensei's and Yuka-sempai's attention. Shuuichi, with his carefree character and his ease in learning things Subaru needed to sit down and actually learn, seemed to grate on his nerves like fingernails on a chalk board, even two years after they had agreed on something like a truce. Everyone liked Shuuichi, while Subaru was regarded as the cold kid, the un-cute one, the one that preferred to read books instead of playing outside, the kid that didn't smile like a kid and didn't talk like a kid. Shuuichi was a misshaped something to Subaru's nice, even circle. Even if they would have tried – would both have been willing to try – they would never have been able to fit each other. Shuuichi was too soft and kind, and Subaru was too rigid and pointy. Geometry just wasn't them.

To think I called him my friend.

So his letters never had reached his parents. And yet they had continued to send him letters, not even once reprimanding him for his lack of answer. They were filled with funny anecdotes and little stories about their everyday lives, and every time, every time, they told him how much they loved him in the last lines of the letter. And nothing Subaru had ever written – not his thanks, not his love, how much he missed them, what he had experienced in the time since he had entered the academy four years ago – had reached them. It was… It was devastating. Had he known it, he would have… He didn't know what he would have done. He refused to think about it. Stupidly, he had believed-

Subaru couldn't decide whether he hated him for not telling him, or whether he should be glad that he had tried to spare him from the pain. In the end, it did not matter.

Sakurano Shuuichi, of course, had known for the whole time.