Ghost Hunt 
by No. 13


Disclaimer: Not mine.

Further warnings: focused entirely on Fuji and Tezuka

Author is no native English speaker (always glad to accept corrections)

Angst

Please enjoy!


18. Barcarolle

You mean Fuji-kun?” the doctor replied with a benevolent smile, indicating that he was well-informed, even though Fuji was none of his own patients.

Would it be possible to go and see him?” Tezuka asked, waiting with baited breath.

The doctor’s smile faltered and was replaced by a more weary expression. After some seconds of silence, he eventually spoke.

“Generally, yes, you can go and visit your friends.”

Tezuka’s heart leapt from joy, even if the doctor’s frown told him wordlessly not to hold onto high expectations. Ayana beside him clutched her skirt and waited for the man in white to continue.

“Though first of all, please consider your own condition. You won’t be able to walk without help until the injury hasn’t healed at least a bit. So if you insist to go, you’ll need at least crutches, but I’d recommend a wheelchair so as not to endanger the stitches.”

Tezuka nodded, waiting with baited breath. Nothing out of the impossible – well, his dignity might suffer should any tennis circuit acquaintance catch him hobbling around on crutches – but it was nothing he wouldn’t do for Fuji.

Everything so that he could see that precious face again. Everything to erase those horrid

images of Fuji – ghostly form – burned on his retina.

“Ideally I would have a nurse accompany you, but I suppose anybody” –and here the man threw a conspiratorial smirk at Ayana- “might suffice. Just to make sure you don’t collapse en route.”

The somewhat lighter atmosphere however did not hold. The doctor’s face once more turned serious.

“However, you’ll need explicit permission to visit, either from the patient himself or a family member.”

Tezuka swallowed, remembering an empty house and Fuji’s rather casual mentions of his parent’s frequent travels.

“We managed to contact the parents earlier this morning.” The doctor state, banishing at least Tezuka’s worst fears, “Though I’m afraid the question of admitting visitors didn’t come up then. Consequently, we’ll have to ask the patient himself – which in Fuji Yumiko’s case, I’m afraid, will be impossible.”

He hadn’t thought about her anymore.

Tezuka felt his blood freeze, unbidden images of a motionless body on the ground rising up again, while his mother stiffened.

She wasn’t… Hadn’t his mother said nobody died, just a few minutes earlier? What was…

Seeing their frightened faces, the doctor heaved a sigh and closed the door behind him, effectively cutting their conversation off from the corridor.

“Though I’m not supposed to tell you, I don’t think it would do any harm. Fuji Yumiko is – as to our knowledge now – comatose.”

It felt as if somebody had pulled out the ground from underneath his feet – an enormous event, that neither his mind nor his heart could effectively grasp within the seconds that the news came. He logically understood the words, but their meaning hadn’t sunk in yet.

“As for Fuji Syusuke – you’ll have to wait until he’s at least awake so that we can ask him”

It was only about half a month later that Tezuka remembered the encounter and suddenly noted, that the doctor had said ‘awake’ and not ‘coherent’.


Luckily for Tezuka’s rather unsettled nerves, procuring said oral permission went surprisingly fast. Barely half an hour later he was hobbling down the corridor on some crutches, his worried mother tagging along.

(She’d naturally pleaded for the wheelchair, but no matter how sensible her child, he still had certain degree of pride which he firmly defended.)

Two elevator rides and a couple corridors later found them both eventually at the right station entrance. The plate didn’t read ICU, yet the aura emitted by a closed, sterile door was still eerily frightening.

After ringing a bell and stating their business, a door was opened and a somewhat tired-looking nurse received them.

Drawing a deep breath, Tezuka entered the special care section with every hair on his body standing up. There was no blood, no panic, no loud, chaotic yelling, no, everything was clean and white and orderly, but still…

Still, this typically hospital air hung thicker of those rooms than any other place he’d yet visited. Gazing at his mother’s expression brought little peace to his mind – she looked far more worried than he’d ever felt comfortable expressing.

“Please wash your hands first.” The nurse further instructed them, leading them over to a small basin where the smell of disinfectants was the strongest.

Both, Ayana and Tezuka nodded. Silently, they complied, each chasing their own thoughts.

The nurse left them with a room number and the advice to call somebody at once should anything occur – and then they were left to their own devices. Tezuka could only step forward from here, even though with each step he took his mind was conjuring new nightmares.

Pictures from every movie he’d seen mingled in his imagination; he saw rows of beeping machines, entirely strange devices, and countless injection needles jotted into Fuji’s body. That small, white, and lifeless body…

As if sensing his thoughts, Ayana put a hand on his shoulder, when he opened the door to Fuji’s room.

Fuji was as white as the sheets he rested on; fine, glossy strands of hair spilled across the pillow the only hint of colour. Even his lips were tinted an icy blue, and the pallor of his skin almost hid the white tubes attached to his hands and upper body.

Frozen to his place, Tezuka wondered what he ought to do, while his mother stepped past him. Ayana reached out, smothering back Fuji’s hair in a rather affectionate gesture. Perhaps she was instinctively trying to replace the mother that wasn’t there, trying to fill the emptiness and lack of flowers around Fuji’s bed.

Gathering himself, Tezuka tried in fain to calm his upset heart; to keep his mind from replaying last night’s events. Dimly he also recalled his spontaneous confession and wondered whether Fuji had actually heard the words. Whether those affections were truly love or if he’d only called them that out of desperation.

He didn’t know, and while the idea of a relationship – to say nothing even of a homosexual one – usually would either embarrass or frighten him, those feelings were what gave him resolve when the rest of his mind was practically in shambles from fear and confusion.

Those hands resting motionless on the sheets looked so small and frail. He was afraid to reach out and touch them, while in his heart he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold Fuji close to himself and make sure he was alright, and apologize for being so incapable of doing anything, and thank him, and tell him that he was more than an ordinary acquaintance, that…

Stepping forward, unmindful of his mother’s watchful eye – how much of his sentiments would she be able to infer from his behaviour alone – he carefully grasped one of Fuji’s hands. Taking care not to touch any of the needles delivering much-needed nutrients to his friend’s thin body.

The hand felt small and bony and somehow, for a split second, Tezuka felt like crying. Here he was, alive and well after everything, while Fuji was far too-pale and not even conscious.

Biting his lip and swallowing the tears burning in his eyes, Tezuka put his second hand over the other – a futile attempt to warm the small limb in-between, perhaps.

But Fuji’s eyelashes twitched at the touch – Tezuka’s breath stopped – and then, very slowly, his eyes opened.

Tezuka felt like he was going to faint with relief when those blue eyes were revealed.

“Fuji-kun.” he heard his mother mumble in a voice she’d previously only reserved for her own child, “How are you feeling?”

Astonishment lightened those slightly dazed blue orbs, maybe amazement at their presence, maybe at the degree of Ayana’s motherly affections. Mustering a weak smile, he focused on the second face looming in the corner of his vision.

Tezuka. Holding one of his hands with both of his, dressed in a hospital gown and looking as if he ought to be lying down – and yet, buchou was…

Fuji blinked in disbelief. Buchou was smiling.

A grim smile, with red-rimmed eyes perhaps, but the sentiment… the sentiment there was… was heart-wrenchingly honest.

Yet with pain and drugs blurring his perception, Fuji couldn’t be sure of anything he saw. Still, on the risk of speaking to an illusion, he wanted to respond to those kind words. Just a nod, or one word – anything to show he acknowledged their presence would suffice.

But when he opened his mouth, barely more than a choked gasp left his throat, before he recalled soreness, and thick liquid flooded his lungs.

Tezuka flinched when his friend started coughing, turning his head away. Wetness echoed horribly and there was no way to spare his mother the sight of the blood. He could only pray she wouldn’t count herself responsible.

They all had acted on their own whims. Or maybe, if the blame had to be placed, the fault was the ghosts’. Nobody else had made a mistake in this affair – and even if Tezuka still felt guilty about last night, about standing on the sideline and doing nothing – he’d tried best, to his knowledge and ability. But what had happened had been far, far beyond him.

Blood splattered onto the pillow, Ayana gasped, horrified and Tezuka involuntarily closed his eyes as if to deny the image. Several devices beeped loudly, and at once steps hurriedly clacked closer.

“Please step back.” one nurse that Tezuka hadn’t even heard enter, demanded, shoving both Tezukas roughly aside. Two assistants appeared out of nowhere, turning Fuji over so that he could cough more easily. Bands of sweat were beading his face, and another machine beeped loudly.

“Blood pressure falling.” one of the nurses announced, an odd sense of urgency in her voice making Tezuka feel cold.

Fuji’s eyes began closing again, but he flashed a tired, bloodstained smile past Tezuka, mouthing a name, before coughing took him over again.

“We need to…” one of the nurses began saying, before the other firmly indicated for Tezuka and his mother to leave the room.

“Oh my…” Ayana whispered, voice choked with unshed tears. Her son wearily turned around – he wouldn’t stay and watch the puppet theatre, trying to guess what was happening in there – and came face to face with a grim-faced Fuji Yuuta.

So this was whom Fuji had smiled at.

“Tezuka-san.” Fuji Yuuta greeted, bowing formally. His hair was in disarray, but that was about the only testament to the grave situation he found his siblings in.

“Fuji-san.” Tezuka replied, equally stiff, “I believe you haven’t yet met; my mother, Tezuka Ayana. Mother, this is Fuji’s brother, Fuji Yuuta.”

Both bowed politely, even if Tezuka could tell his mother was a bit taken aback by Yuuta’s lack of emotionality. But Tezuka could see that Yuuta had only another way of dealing with the situation.

“Thank you for taking care of my siblings.” Yuuta said, head still bowed. His voice was surprisingly even – Tezuka had to admit, he, too, had expected the younger brother to be somewhat more upset. After all, Fuji Yuuta on the courts was a passionate and temperamental person, completely unlike his eternally smiling brother.

But even so, in the end, Yuuta was a member of the same family. And just like his siblings, he could employ the same inscrutable calmness, if needed.

“It was nothing.” Ayana replied, sounding slightly uncertain, as if she wanted to offer consolations, yet had to stick to protocol.

Fuji Yuuta glanced around, hardly even flinching at the frantic activity behind the half-opened door that hid his brother from view. Tezuka dared not to think of what was happening there.

“I’m going to see my sister.” Yuuta announced and turned his back on the scene.


Tezuka didn’t know why exactly he was following Fuji Yuuta around, but somehow he and his mother found themselves doing just that. Maybe it was a subconscious desire to lend support, but Yuuta didn’t look as if he needed it.

Not even the sight of his sister hooked up to dozens of machines had made him shed a tear, while Tezuka’s blood had frozen. His expression might not have changed, either, but the memories were all too clear.

Of Yumiko barging in, restoring hope were all had seemed lost… to what end? To offer her own life? Had she known what was to come of her actions? Had she known and still gone through with it?

Yuuta, sitting at her bedside, had eventually acknowledged Tezuka’s presence once again.

“What …” he heaved a weary sigh, “What did they do this time around?”

Ayana paled, shocked at the kind of experiences this 13-year old boy had gone through. How does one get used to see his next of kin hospitalized? In critical condition? Barely clinging on to life? If this had been somebody from her family…

“We tried to exorcise a ghost.” Tezuka replied evenly.

Yuuta nodded. “Do you know what exactly happened?”

“Your brother got possessed. As for your sister … I don’t know what exactly she did, but she tried to break the possession.”

“Only the possession? Aniki didn’t snap out by himself?” Yuuta frowned in disbelief.

He understood more than Tezuka had expected him too. Just the way the boy usually tried to keep himself distanced from the rest of his family – but obviously, all was only a front. Fuji Yuuta knew more than Tezuka probably ever would concerning exorcism, spirits and the supernatural.

“A ghost tried to revive somebody and…”

“Ah, I understand.” Yuuta said, and Tezuka felt grateful that he didn’t need to find words to explain the rest of what had transpired.

He spent the next five minutes deep in thought. In the end, he glanced at his sister’s white face, and sorrow flashed through hazel eyes, before the unaffected front rose once more.

“Fuji-san.” Ayana tentatively broke the silence, “If we can be of any help to you…”

Yuuta flashed a humourless smile at them. “Thank you very much, but it won’t be …”

“Fuji-san. Anything will do.” Ayana interrupted “I feel responsible. This happened in a house my family inherited and I…”

“Tezuka-san, please, don’t worry.” Yuuta gently refused “My siblings knew very well what they were doing and the possible repercussions it might have. And even if the situation got out of hand – it isn’t as if that hadn’t happened before.”

His eyes darkened, reminding Tezuka eerily of Yumiko.

“There was one foolish endeavour I can’t remember, a long time ago. I was just about three and Nee-san tried to help the police with the case of a kidnapped girl. In the end they had Syusuke try and enter her mind – just at the time her kidnapper killed her. Belief me, that was far worse than this now.”

Ayana had been successfully shocked into white-faced silence. She seemed about to faint, a hand resting on the plastic chair’s back for support.

Yuuta smiled at them, a classical Fuji smile.

“Tezuka-san, thank you for being there for my siblings. Please excuse me, I need to speak to the head physician.”

And Fuji Yuuta left.


Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and if you have suggestions or comments, please share them with me.

 


On to Chapter 19~