Title: Understanding Silence
Pairing: TezuFuji, expired OshiAto, Golden Pair
Genre: Still angsty
Beta: pinksnow1986(character beta), hakkai_sensei(grammar/character beta), chilibreath(grammar beta)
Rating: T
Summary: "He had never been the kind to talk when he didn't have anything new or anything of particular importance to say." A look into silence, from Fuji's point of view.
Warnings: Watch out for flying furballs at Atobe/Fuji catfight.
Disclaimer: Still not mine, last time I checked. I think Santa's still bargaining with Konomi-sensei for the rights.
Author's Notes: A mirror piece to "Quiescence". Again, thank you to my betas. To a1y_puff, I do not know how well I was able to translate your request into my fics, but I hope you enjoyed them anyhow. Merry Christmas!

Understanding Silence

He had never been the kind to talk when he didn't have anything new or anything of particular importance to say. I knew that. I accepted that. Perhaps I even loved that about him just like how I loved everything else there was to love about Tezuka Kunimitsu.

But there were times when I would wonder about the things that ran through his head whenever he lapsed into one of his impregnable silences.

"Ne, 'Mitsu…" I started out to ask the question that was pushing its way past the lump in my throat.

"Hmm?" He prompted without looking up.

"I…" The words couldn't make it past the lump, after all. "Nothing. It's not important."

But it was important. I needed to know: I was wondering if you still love me. I toyed with the simple white gold band on my left ring finger, and a slight smile came to my face when I recalled how I slowly and subtly managed to get under Tezuka Kunimitsu's skin that late winter before we started high school…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Tezuka, I'm bored…"

He raised an eyebrow at my declaration. "If I remember correctly, it was your choice to come over unannounced. I don't think I should be held responsible for the fact that I do not have any entertainment prepared for you."

I laughed at the deadpan, matter-of-fact way he said that. "True that," I agreed easily. "But it's not like I was expecting you to juggle fire rings for me or anything like that, you know."

"So what is it, exactly, that you want me to do to relieve you of your boredom?" he asked curiously.

I gave him a sweet smile, waited a few moments, and looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. "Just talk to me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ne, 'Mitsu, talk to me."

But the silence that met my quiet request was something that I expected.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"… I don't want this anymore…"

I softly but firmly whispered despite the impossible tightness in my throat. It was taking all my faculties and my willpower not to break down in front of him so I stopped walking right there in the middle of the deserted sidewalk. It was almost midnight and what had been a cool, crisp late autumn breeze just moments ago, picked up and turned into a cold, biting wind.

He stopped short at my declaration and turned to look back at where I had stopped. He looked vaguely taken aback. Surprised.

But he didn't say a word. Even at that time, he never broke the silence. And again, I was left to wonder what he was thinking about. But if he had no objections to voice, then I guess my fears were right. He didn't want me anymore. He just didn't know how to tell me.

Well, I could make it easy for him.

"I don't want to be with you anymore, Tezuka…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I wish I knew what happened. I wish I could pinpoint exactly what went wrong. But alas, my genius seems to be confined to the realms of academics, tennis, and photography.

Somewhere along the way, we just lost touch with each other. We would lie entwined in bed together, but the silence was such a real presence that it might as well have been there in bed between us. Tezuka seemed to revel in that silence, he seemed to find comfort in it somehow. And so despite the fact that every single day I had to live with that growing, breathing, solidifying silence made it harder and harder for me to push a smile between gritted teeth, I did it. Because I love him. Because I was afraid to admit that maybe, the silence was the only thing that made him stay with me.

But I am a very jealous lover. I refused to share Tezuka. Not even with the silence.

And so I did the only thing I could.

I smiled.

… And then I let him go.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed when I met Atobe purely by accident that early spring. I was strolling Parc des Buttes-Chaumont[1] in search of an interesting subject, when the familiar voice that was perpetually tinged with condescension called out to me. It wasn't long before I found myself sipping mocha java in one of the chic roadside cafés of Paris.

"So what brings you to France, Atobe?" I asked with a deceptively benign smile. Over the years, Atobe and I have cultivated a rather… unique relationship. I still haven't quite forgiven Atobe for what he did to Tezuka back in middle school (yes, I like holding on to my grudges, thank you very much) and so our meetings and interactions are always riddled with subtle verbal spars and calculated mental jabs.

"Oh, you know," Atobe waved his hand carelessly, "business, merger talks, project proposals…" He paused to look at me in mild calculation, "I'm not quite as carefree as others who can afford to come to Paris to get away from discomfiting situations under the guise of taking photographs for a living."

My mask almost slipped and cracked at that one. "Of course, not everyone can have the convenient excuse of being heir to a multi-national corporation, so they make do with what they can work with," I returned, smiling sweet venom at the haughty man before me. "By the way," I added, my eyes opening to narrow slits as I pushed in and twisted the proverbial knife-in-the-heart with my next words, "I just heard that Oshitari-kun recently got engaged. Since you're such good friends, please do extend my congratulations to him the next time you meet."

Our eyes met and clashed. The former Ice Emperor of Hyotei looked like he would have wanted nothing more at that moment than to freeze me on the spot and leave me to die of hypothermia, but then he knew he practically asked for it. He knew it was impossible to carelessly tread on my wounds without me retaliating in full measure… and then some. A few minutes of dead air signified an uneasy truce being declared between us.

"I haven't seen or talked to Tezuka in over a year, but before I left Japan, I heard that he was starting in on his residency at Tokyo Medical University Hospital," the Atobe heir volunteered. I only nodded to indicate that I heard him.

"So where are you going next, after Paris? I'm assuming you won't be going back to Japan for a while," Atobe inquired.

"I'm not quite sure," I answered with an indifferent shrug. "Greece, maybe. Italy. Germany. Africa. But I'll probably be in the Caribbean for the summer." Not another word was spoken between us until we finished our drinks and we both stood up to leave.

Turning his back to me, Atobe took a step to leave before stopping dead in his tracks. I watched his back tense as though debating with himself about something. And then, without turning to face me, he quietly asked, "What happened?"

His posture, the tone of his voice when he asked, everything about him practically screamed that he was hating himself for asking the question, but it seemed as though the curious spoiled brat in him had to be appeased… Or I wasn't misreading him and he really was concerned about Tezuka… and, in a way, me. I smiled a sad little smile that he couldn't see. Perhaps we could be friends after all.

"The silence killed me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Not going home yet?" I asked Tezuka as I sat down beside him on the clubroom bench, letting my tennis bag drop to the ground before me. "You're no longer team captain, so you don't have to stay behind and lock up, you know. But I guess old habits die hard, don't they, buchou?" I teased.

"Hn. I'm no longer team captain, but I see you're back to being the freshman tennis prodigy," he replied neutrally. "I guess there are some things that even being in high school cannot change."

It's been a while since I managed to spend some time alone with Tezuka, bantering like this. It felt good. It felt right. And so despite the fact that I would rather talk about any number of things than my enduring 'tensai' status, I quipped back something about Echizen and true tennis genius.

A few moments of quiescence settled around us before I leaned in to peer at Tezuka's shuttered face. "Is something wrong?"

I knew that my closeness unsettled him, which was why I enjoyed intruding into his personal bubble as often as I could. Watching him try to get his personal space back without looking like that's what he's doing has always been amusing. This time, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. Keeping his eyes on his clasped hands, he casually answered, "You were over at my house all the time during the break, but you haven't visited once since school started. My mother is beginning to wonder if we had a fight or something."

"Oh," so we were finally getting to 'talk' about this, huh? Discussions with Tezuka are always interesting. I seem to get more from his pregnant pauses and silent interludes than from his words. "Were you expecting me over? Is it alright for me to still hang out with you and make you help me with my homework?"

He sat up straight and stared at me. The look he gave me clearly told me that he thought I was the last person in the world who would need help with homework, but all he said was, "Well, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Hmmm…" I hummed pensively as I looked unseeingly out the window. We've been pussyfooting around this very same issue for the longest time. I love Tezuka. Have loved him for the longest time. And now he's starting to want me, but he's unsure about how to proceed. Of course he would worry about the consequences of having a relationship with another boy. Of course he would think about what his family would think. Of course he would think about how this would affect the countless responsibilities he's taken upon himself.

But Tezuka is strong, and his passions run deeper than anyone would ever suspect. If it is something that he really wants, then he will make sure that nobody would ever be able to say anything about it. He would make it so that there would be no cause for anybody to say anything against it. And so the key is convincing him that he does want this. That he wants me.

He'll take it from there.

Having decided, I leaned in to rest my head on his shoulder. I felt him tense for a moment before he forced himself to relax. Still looking out the window and hoping that this was enough to make him seriously think, I quietly asked, "Are we friends?"

I'm sure he knew exactly what I was actually asking. I was treated to another round of dead silence before he answered just as quietly, "No, I guess we aren't."

I couldn't help but laugh at the resignation in his tone.

After a few moments, I raised my head from where it was comfortably resting on Tezuka's shoulder and teasingly asked him, "Ne, do you mind if I called you 'Mitsu from now on?"

The blank look he gave me was enough for me to understand the horror he felt at the mere suggestion of that nickname. His lack of an answer told me everything I needed to know. I broke out into another round of laughter. I stood up, shouldered my tennis bag, and firmly grabbed his hand and pulled. "Come on, it's getting late. Let's go home."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Is everything alright, Fuji-san?" Aikawa, an art student in his third year of university who worked part-time as my assistant, asked curiously.

I realized I had been staring off into space while I was lost in my memories of the past, and my attention snapped back into focus at the question directed at me. "Of course, Aikawa-kun," I smiled reassuringly. "Why do you ask?"

Aikawa paused mid-packing away the tripod and looked at me frankly. "You've been distracted throughout most of the photo shoot. If you've been anybody else other than the Fuji Syuusuke, I would have even thought you were testy and irritable; but since you are Fuji Syuusuke, the man who makes glaciers look like they need to up their cool factor, I'll just say you were… uh, a bit too intense today," he flashed his boyish smile at me to try to soften the subtle reproach. "You've been back in Japan for three weeks, so you can't claim jetlag. So yeah, I was wondering if something happened," Aikawa continued, nodding casually to the simple white gold band I didn't realize I was fidgeting with until he voicelessly referred to it, "I mean, c'mon, boss. You didn't become a premier photographer by glaring at Momiji[2] trees because their leaves weren't red enough to suit your taste."

I gave a strained light-hearted little laugh. It seems I had to be more careful around my young assistant. He didn't miss a lot of details. On the upside, I guess that's why I always knew he would make a fantastic photographer and agreed to take him under my wing.

"It's nothing, Aikawa-kun," I shrugged with forced detachment. "It's just the season. Autumn doesn't have the best memories associated with it for me," I said somewhat cryptically.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Thank you," I said gratefully when Oishi set down the steaming mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of me. He only smiled at me in return before perching himself on the cushioned arm of the easy chair that Eiji was occupying.

"Mou! It's almost Christmas, Fuji! You've been back since October, and it took you this long to visit us!" Eiji complained once he settled himself into the crook of Oishi's arm.

I laughed lightly at Eiji's pouting. "Well, I had to wait for the snow to fall so I'd be sure to get a mug of Oishi's excellent hot cocoa when I came over for a visit," I reasoned.

Eiji looked adoringly up at Oishi, but his expression changed a scant second later. Eiji looked questioning. Oishi shook his head once and his expression looked almost reproving. My red-haired friend got that steely look in his eyes and I knew that whatever he was going to say to me next, Oishi disapproved of it.

"Have you gone to see Tezuka yet?"

I almost choked on my hot cocoa. "I don't think he wants to see me, Eiji."

"Sure he does!" Eiji said confidently. "He and Oishi usually have the same shift in the hospital, so I know. He never says so, but we all know that Tezuka misses you. After all, he still lives in the same apartment you guys used to live in. And the last time we visited, everything was still in the exact same place you left them in. You left so suddenly last time, you didn't bring much of anything with you. I bet that if you go there now, you'd find that your clothes are still there, hanging right beside Tezuka's clothes in the closet. I'll even bet that—What?" Eiji was cut off when he looked sharply at Oishi.

The grip Oishi had on Eiji's shoulder told me what kind of brakes he applied. The former Seigaku tennis club vice-captain stole an apologetic look at me before looking back at Eiji. Oishi's green eyes softened, as though telling Eiji that he had said enough. Eiji looked like he was going to balk, but in the end, he gave a small smile of acceptance and leaned more fully against Oishi's side.

At their silent exchange, I felt the cold hands of longing and envy grip my heart. "It's amazing how you guys could hold full conversations without saying a word like that," I commented wistfully.

At my words, Eiji looked at me in askance. "But I thought you, of all people, would be used to things like this, Fuji." He tilted his head to one side, as though trying to figure out a way to properly word what he wanted to say. And then he finally brightened and said, "After all, Tezuka usually sounds like a whole lot of meaningful silences and eloquent looks.[3]"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I walked out on Tezuka over a year ago. I pointed to the silence as the unwanted third party in our relationship, the mistress that supplanted me in his affections. But Eiji was right. Tezuka usually sounds like a whole lot of meaningful silences and eloquent looks. I'd just gotten lazy, complacent. I didn't let myself understand what his silences wanted to say the way I used to.

I don't know how long I stood in that hallway, just staring at that very familiar door, mustering the courage to be the one to break the silence this time. Finally, I put knuckles against smooth door. Three short raps, the way I always knocked whenever I forgot to bring the house keys with me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was nervous and I was scared, but I hoped that it didn't show. I hoped that all Tezuka could see was the same serene smile I always had for him alone. "Hello, 'Mitsu," I greeted him simply when he opened the door.

"Fuji," he acknowledged me with a nod. I swallowed against the tightness in my throat upon hearing the beloved voice that had haunted my dreams for so long.

I wasn't quite sure how to proceed from there. This uncertainty reminded me so much of that time in the clubroom. The sense of anticipation and anxiety was exactly the same as back then. And in a moment of blind inspiration, I did the exact same thing I did back then: I leaned in to peer up at his face and asked, "Is something wrong?"

At my question, he seemed to shake himself out of the stupor he was in and stepped aside to let me in through the door. Walking into the apartment, the sense of nostalgia and familiarity assaulted me so strongly that it took everything I had to keep from keeling over. After taking off my coat and hanging it in the exact same spot I always used to hang my coat on – right beside Tezuka's coat – I walked into the living room and took in the sameness of everything. It was like time stopped in this place. It was as if I never left.

I left because I thought I wasn't wanted. I thought Tezuka didn't love me anymore, he just didn't know how to tell me. But looking at the apartment, and how it seemed to have become a monument to the time we were together, I knew just how wrong I was.

Finally, I turned around to face Tezuka, a gentle, teasing smile playing on my lips. "It's been a while, buchou."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

We sat together on the couch and not a single word was exchanged between us. Quietly, I searched Tezuka's impassive face. I could see the strain that the silence between us was having on him. From the shallow, ragged breaths he was taking, I could hear the silent desperation in his heart. He wanted this silence gone. He wanted to be understood.

He wanted me to stay.

And just as I did that day in the club room, I leaned in and rested my head on his shoulder. The sense of rightness that filled me at that moment was beyond words. I knew that he felt it too. And so, for that moment, I let the silence speak for both of us.

But I absolutely refused to let the silence take over again, the way it once did. Words will have just as much a part in our regular communication as the silences. And so after a while, I stood up and with my left hand firmly grabbed Tezuka's right hand and pulled, "Come on, let's go to the kitchen. It's cold in here." I took a moment to enjoy the sight of our joined hands. "Make me some hot chocolate, 'Mitsu, and I'll tell you all about what I've been up to this past year."

Tezuka let himself be pulled up from the couch and led by the hand, but halfway to the kitchen, he stopped and pulled on my hand still clasped in his. I looked back at him in askance.

"Welcome home, Fuji," he said uncertainly. And in that statement, I understood what he was asking. I heard what he wanted me to say.

I gave him a smile with all the reassurance and all the love that I had for him, "Tadaima[4], 'Mitsu."

~Owari~
La Fuego
10/27/2008

Post Script:

[1] Parc des Buttes-Chaumont – one of the more popular/scenic parks in Paris.

[2] Momiji – otherwise known as Japanese Maple. You should see this tree in autumn! Its leaves get to be the most glorious shade of red you would ever see!

[3] Yes, Eiji could use big words now. Just keep in mind that these guys are now twenty-something and not in middle school anymore.

[4] I'm quite sure that pretty much everyone knows that tadaima = "I'm home/ I'm back". I think there's a certain nuance to "tadaima" that just can't be translated into English, so I left it as it was and didn't bother translating it.