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!


22. Cantate

A thick layer of snow was covering the grounds on a Thursday morning almost two weeks later, when Tezuka, wrapped in his warmest coat, walked to school. The air was clear and icy, just to his likening. From now on it would probably be too cold for rain, and honestly, he’d had enough of the rain anyways.

Seeing the white grounds before him rendered the world an unusual tranquile, covering dirt and smoothing the edges. Everything was beautiful to behold, white and still and winter holidays were just around the corner.

Trudging forward, he buried himself deeper into his warm winter clothes, grateful for having chosen a thicker scarf to wear today. Temperatures must have dropped dramatically over night, and the mud puddles from yesterday evening were frozen.

They’d have to hold practice indoors from now on, though they’d have to fight with the basketball team for the gym – which wasn’t an activity to look forward too, but since it happened every year, Tezuka had some idea how to go about it. Furthermore, he and the basketball team’s captain weren’t on bad terms (not yet, maybe), so it should work out.

Lost as he was in those everyday contemplations he didn’t hear the snow crunching and failed to notice a flock of ravens abruptly taking flight, or an approaching figure heading towards him among snow-covered trees.

“Good morning.”

A gentle voice he hadn’t heard in far too long said.

Tezuka turned and found Fuji smiling sweetly at him. His friend looked still too white and not entirely healthy, but far better than the last time they’d seen each other. Even when Fuji had finally been discharged from the hospital, he had still been far too weak and sickly to Tezuka’s likening. There had been phases, when the captain had wondered whether Fuji would recover in time for next season at all.

But now, as rain had changed into snow at last, that calm, inscrutable smile was restored.

“Good morning.” Tezuka replied, carefully taking in the thick, dark coat, woollen scarf and matching gloves. He hoped they were as warm as they looked, because the wind that day was beyond chilly.

Generally, Fuji could use a little more weight, otherwise Momoshirou’s serve would knock him of his feet next season. But, all in all … when he recalled what had happened…

Closing his eyes he tried to block out the memories assaulting his mind, but he couldn’t shake the flashes of alien voices, an extravagant kimono and blood stains. The horrible coughing that had left his friend to weak to even stand…

“How are you?” he heard himself asking and Fuji smiled, pleasantly surprised at Tezuka taking the initiative.

“Far better, thank you.” Fuji smiled, genuinely happy. That he was stifling a cough behind a gloved hand did nothing to reassure Tezuka, who raised an eyebrow and frowned.

“Really.” Fuji chuckled, answering an unasked question, but the chuckles too turned into coughing. He had to stop there, bend over and wait for the fit to pass until he could speak again. With worry Tezuka observed that the little colour he previously held had once again completely drained from Fuji’s face.

“That cold is annoyingly persistent.” Fuji explained with a sunny smile, that seemed even brighter in their whitened environment.

“But you’re all right?” Tezuka asked, implying events beyond a mere cold. He wished he could cross that week just out of his calendar, but it had happened – after all, he still sported bruises to prove it. And Yumiko wasn’t out of hospital either…

“About that?” Fuji asked, tilting his head and turning his steps once again into the direction of school. “Yes, Nee-san did a good job back there.”

Recalling the pale woman resting in a hospital bed miles away, Tezuka swallowed, feeling oddly responsible. “How is she?”

Compassion wasn’t his metier, but he tried his best anyways. And judging from Fuji’s pleased expression, his attempt was well-received.

“No change, but that’s not too bad.” Fuji actually smiled softly, while Tezuka wondered how he managed to hold up with his sister basically at death’s door.

“It was a rather violent thing she did there – one that took a lot of power so she’ll be out for a little longer, still. Ne, it’s not bad, Tezuka. We’ve had situations like that before, so Yuuta and I know what to expect and if we need to start worrying.”

“But the doctors…”

“The doctors declared her comatose which is to the extent of their knowledge exactly correct. But I’m rather sure she’s going to wake up within the next two or three weeks. So don’t worry, Tezuka, everything is going to be all right.”

For a couple of minutes they kept walking besides each other, with only the sound of fresh snow crunching underneath their feet and Fuji’s muffled coughing for company. It was nice, this fresh, biting air and the silence of the early morning with only very few cars on the road.

A cold wind was blowing in even darker, greyer clouds, tearing off the last, long-since withered brown leaves and the smell of snow filled the air. Winter’s first salutation had turned the world into a black and white photograph, where only Fuji’s eyes retained their sparkling, vibrant colour.

The park they were crossing on their way to school was completely empty this morning. Overnight snowfall had kept even the most ambitious joggers at home at least until the ways had been cleared and most students wouldn’t pass here until about an hour later. As of now, the snow was undisturbed; a smooth white surface, only broken by the blackish silhouettes of leafless trees and bushes.

A raven cawed overhead and for some reason Fuji slowed his steps.

Worried, Tezuka, too slowed down. If Fuji was feeling unwell, he would better return home, perhaps…

“Ne, Tezuka…” Fuji tentatively set out, “There is one thing…”

Tezuka stopped and turned to look at the smaller student beside him. Even wrapped in several layers Fuji looked small, delicate even, as he subconsciously pulled at a few hairs the wind kept blowing into his face.

“There is one thing I still don’t quite understand about that night.”

He flashed a half-mast smile at Tezuka, but those blue eyes were serious, even if they only shortly met Tezuka’s before turning away, landing upon a couple of ravens hopping along the ground on their quest for food.

Tezuka tilted his head, silently indicating for Fuji to continue. He doubted he’d be of any help, but he’d try at least. This would be his way of expressing his feelings, he had decided. Fuji’s condition as of now he deemed as far too fragile to be bothered by further emotional confusion; so the best thing Tezuka could do was to support his friend wherever he could.

Love is about making the one you love happy.” His mother had once told him, and even though Tezuka was grown up enough to have realized that love wasn’t quite that altruistic and in it’s nature already included quite a good deal of selfishness, that sentiment was what he would hold onto now.

Because, as long as he didn’t know how Fuji felt or whether this wasn’t just a passing infatuation on his part, it was the best thing he could do.

“… it’s a bit difficult since I don’t remember anything after they’d finished that ceremony…” Fuji was saying, “… but … well, there’s …”

A forced chuckled and all Tezuka wanted to do was reach out, embrace him and tell him not to worry anymore.

“It’s only a little odd that I’m still alive.”

Fuji managed to look at Tezuka just in that moment, that all blood left Seigaku’s buchou’s face and his expression, for a split second only, escaped his tight control. Shock made him open his eyes wide, but his heart felt like it had stopped beating.

“I mean…” Fuji hurried to explain, turning away again as if the silent landscape could help him find the right words, “Not that I’m not happy or anything, but, you know, rightfully I ought to be dead.”

The words shocked Tezuka speechless. There was a lot he actually wanted to say, scream, yell, but none of his sentiments he could word properly, and that left him standing still, helpless and listening in sheer disbelief.

“That ceremony had already removed my soul from my body, which is why I don’t remember anything; while, if you still recall, when she possessed me back at home, I could more or less remember everything.”

Somewhere deep within, his heart, still numb from shock, started aching.

“So when Nee-san’s plan worked out and Amane’s soul was removed from my body too, I ought to have been dead instantly. …”

Fuji glanced down at his shoes, black against the white snow.

“… Fuji…” Tezuka finally muttered, breathless. He couldn’t believe how casually his team mate was talking about his own death, how little meaning his life seemed to hold to himself.

“Nee, Tezuka.” Fuji continued, meeting his friend’s eyes eventually and there were a myriad of emotions pressing on his chest, “… I don’t think I ever properly thanked you.”

Seeing Tezuka’s confused expression, a smile ghosted across Fuji’s face and he subconsciously stepped closer. Less then twenty centimetres space were left between them and suddenly the cold and the wind were banned away from the sacral area.

Wide-open, completely serious blue eyes met Tezuka’s, and a small hand reached out, gently stroking one cold cheek.

“Tezuka. I was dead when Amane’s soul left my body. But somebody called me back.”

Tezuka didn’t dare to breath, realizing the soft touch only somewhere in the far back of his mind; far too mesmerized by the words Fuji was saying.

“There is only one way to call a person back that has died. Only one emotion that is strong enough – the very one Tatsunori used to make Amane’s soul linger – to call a soul back. Only this one and none other.”

Fuji’s hand was trembling.

Darkness surged up within Tezuka’s chest, somewhere beneath the shock-frozen surface an emotion akin to pain; hot and heart-wrenching grasped his soul, but within all the confusion all his mind did was to conjured up those images once again.

How cold and frail Fuji’s lifeless body had felt in his arms. The desperation tearing his heart into pieces, the blood trickling from his stomach that had lost all importance, and then the frighteningly beautiful apparition in front of his disbelieving eyes.

He had wanted to see that smile again, only once, but alive and real and not faked and genuine and… he hadn’t wanted to say goodbye. Not at that point, not when their shared dreams were yet unfulfilled, not when Tezuka hadn’t fully grasped how precious that smaller person was to him.

And so, in that moment, he’d spoken the words.

Those three words…

Those words he seemed to be incapable of speaking again.

Tezuka opened his mouth to finally reply, but then Fuji started coughing. The fit lasted long enough to make Tezuka reach out in worry, but Fuji stumbled away. Brown hair kept his voice hidden from view and pale hands shakily procured a handkerchief.

Fuji tried his best to hide it, but Tezuka still saw the bloodstains.

“Fuji…” he said, troubled and stepped closer. His friend raised his head wearily, the smile on his lips thin and brittle. Yet when he tried to hide the handkerchief, Tezuka grabbed his wrist.

“Are you really better?” Tezuka asked, worry eating away at his soul.

And when Fuji only smiled and whispered a hoarse ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be okay’, his heart broke.

Something snapped within himself and everything came crashing down. The guilt he’d tried to deny; the guilt of having instigated everything, of having asked his friend to look at that house, to look at the ghost, to have asked for that exorcism that had wrecked Fuji’s health and left his sister in a coma…

His self-control broke. He wrapped his arms around his astonished team mate, drawing him as close as possible and buried his head in Fuji’s hair.

“I love you.” he whispered, “I don’t know how to say it, but I honestly think I’m in love with you…”

“Tezuka…” Fuji’s voice was muffled, his face pressed in the crook of Tezuka’s shoulder. Small, gloved hands slowly wrapped themselves around Tezuka’s shoulders and Tezuka could feel each shuddering breach Fuji drew.

“Tezuka …” Fuji muttered again, voice laced with a myriad of emotions. And even if he wasn’t being rejected, if Fuji hadn’t even flinched at his confession, Tezuka felt as if his heart was breaking.

“I’m sorry, Fuji.” Tezuka rasped, trying desperately to deny the tears burning behind closed eyelids. “I’m sorry for bothering you with this, I don’t even know why…”

“Te – Kunimitsu.” Fuji interrupted hoarsely, “Stop apologizing.”

The soft order was astonishingly effective, and for the first time Tezuka noticed that Fuji was trembling just as badly as he was himself. Within the silence of a snow-covered park early on Thursday morning, each hitched breath sounded twice as loud.

“If it wasn’t for this…” Fuji continued, close enough that Tezuka could feel his warm breath tickling his cheek.

“If it wasn’t for you...” Beautiful blue eyes turned upward and caught hazel ones. Their surroundings seemed to disappear entirely and it was as if the entire world had been bleached, reduced, until only the very two of them remained

“If you didn’t love me, I wouldn’t have survived that night.”

And even if Tezuka had wanted to say something, his throat constricted and he was unable to even pronounce a single word. The ravens, too had fallen silent; black silhouettes – like those trees – against an unnaturally white background.

“And for what it’s worth…”

Fuji smiled.

The most beautiful, breath-taking smile Tezuka had ever seen in his entire life.

“I love you too.”

The flock of ravens took flight, an abrupt flutter of black wings and Tezuka’s eyes were wide, surprised and almost frightened. But Fuji only continued smiling, blissfully unaware of what this smile was doing to Tezuka’s heart.

“I know it won’t be easy…” Somewhat wistfully he once glanced around the unpopulated white plain, “And perhaps we ought to keep it a secret…”

And then, blue eyes turned back to fix Tezuka’s face, a gloved hand carefully reaching out to touch a cheek reddened by the frosty air.

“But I’d like to give it a try.”

Tezuka couldn’t help but lean into that touch; raise his own hand and cover Fuji’s smaller one with it. Even if his heart was still pounding like mad and his knees felt like pudding, for the first time in weeks he felt that shadow that had been following him, lift.

The confusion that had held his heart captive was clearing up, gently and just like that, and somehow it seemed unbelievable that the solution should be this simple.

Yet it was.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Tezuka replied, feeling a small smile of his own creep onto his lips; a gesture so foreign and yet heart-warming.

And upon that one, ice-cold December morning the last reminders of what happened on a rainy November night were finally cast off.

And within a silent, snow-covered landscape, Tezuka leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on Fuji’s lips.


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

 


On to Chapter 23~