Shattered
by Regatto

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me! They belong to Konomi- Sensei.

Notes: Comments and words of gratitude are at the end of the story. A big THANK YOU to all my very kind reviewers. Without further ado, let's go!

3. Torment 

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He was sitting under a Sakura tree, staring into space. The sun was setting, the sky awash with a multitude of colors: depthless lapis lazuli blue, cool pinks and magenta, and rich, glowing amber. Yet, the soft fading light could not disguise the gauntness of his face. He had always been slim, but now the jut of his bones could clearly be discerned, even under the concealing folds of his powder blue sweater.

As a gentle breeze blew, myriad Sakura blossoms swirled and danced in the air. The delicate petals teasingly caressed the planes of his face as they fluttered down, covering the ground like a blanket of fresh snow. He reached out his hand and gazed at the gathering blossoms; almost dispassionately, he noted the contrast between the beauty of the pristine white petals and the harshness of the angry scars that crisscrossed his palm.

"Fuji." Startled, Fuji Syusuke jerked his head up and peered searchingly through the swirling curtain of white. For a moment, he could only perceive a shadowy outline, moving slowly, but inexorably towards him. Then his vision cleared as the familiar figure stood directly in front of him.

Tezuka. His hair was wind-tousled, but like always, his face was a stoic mask and his eyes revealed nothing. "Fuji, I have been looking everywhere for you."

Shutting his eyes abruptly, Fuji smiled. " Really? I have been sitting here all this time. Neh, Tezuka. Aren't these Sakura blossoms beautiful? They look so much like snow." Running his fingers through the drifting petals, Fuji's smile widened. " But they feel cool and velvety, just like Spring."

"How's your right hand, Fuji?" Tezuka asked, his face expressionless and his voice betraying only a mild curiosity.

"The physiotherapy sessions have been going well. I can clutch a rubber ball and flex my fingers slightly. I have also regained some sensations. The doctors feel that I should be able to try writing again in a few more weeks." Fuji chuckled. " I swear the doctors are more concerned than I am. I am already writing quite well with my left hand! In fact my writing is better than Eiji's, although he vehemently denies it."

"Eiji writes like an eight year old." Tezuka commented neutrally. "Fuji, are you free right now?"

Fuji's smile wavered almost imperceptibly as he leaned against the trunk of the tree." Why?"

"I am flying back to Germany tomorrow. There's a place I want to visit before I leave. If you are free, I would like you to accompany me."

Fuji was silent. After what seemed like an interminable wait, he finally nodded and grinned. "Of course, I'll be delighted to."

"Let's go then." Tezuka turned and started walking.

"Wait a second! Neh Tezuka, you are always in such a rush!"

As Fuji's footsteps sounded behind him, Tezuka finally let out a breath that he did not know he had been holding.

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The street lights flickered on as the last vestige of the sun's rays dissipated into the evening air.

As they strolled along the sidewalk, Fuji was smiling and talking gaily about innocuous things, gesturing and waving his hands to punctuate his words. All Tezuka saw was Fuji's right hand. The swelling had finally subsided; the dark, stormy splotches of bruising that had seemed so incongruous on Fuji's pale skin had all but disappeared, leaving behind the faintest stain of ochre. But the scars were there, starkly illuminated by the harsh florescent lights: long, raised and puckered, running and slashing across his hand from palm to fingers like a demented engineer's monstrous network of railways.

Three and a half months. It had taken three and a half months for Fuji's hand to be functional again. Fourteen weeks. Ninety-eight days. That was how long Tezuka had been back in Tokyo and how long he had watched helplessly as Fuji suffered.

Faced with the crushing weight of his guilt and pain, Fuji had eschewed the concern and care of his family and friends. Instead, he had chosen to isolate and barricade part of himself under layers and layers of carefully constructed emotional walls. The other part of Fuji was presented to the rest of the world: the happy, perpetually smiling boy, unfettered and untouched by the tragic occurrences.

Despite his failed attempts to get past Fuji's smiling mask, Tezuka had not given up. He had accompanied Fuji on several occasions to visit the unconscious Yuuta, watching in silence as Fuji cradled his brother's hand and chattered animatedly about their childhood, about the weather, about the latest pop band - about everything. Except tennis. All of Fuji's conversations had been devoid of the topic; it was as if tennis had never existed in Fuji Syusuke's life.

Along with Kawamura, Tezuka had visited Fuji's house as well. Again, all traces of tennis in Fuji's room had completely vanished. The cherished childhood photographs of a grinning Fuji with his favorite racket nestled in his arms, the numerous trophies won in countless tournaments, his tennis jersey and even his grip tape were all gone. Tennis had shaped Fuji's life. Without it, there was only a terrible void. Left with bare walls and empty shelves, the room was barren and sterile.

Kawamura had looked at him, his earnest face troubled. "Ano, Tezuka. Do you think Fuji is alright? All of us have been so worried, and have tried to talk to him so many times. With Yuuta-kun's situation and his injury, he has to be in pain...but, but he seems so cheerful! He visited me at the sushi shop a couple of days ago and even asked for Wasabi sushi. He has always concealed his true emotions from us, but this time I feel as if I am talking to a stranger!" Flustered and face turning red, Kawamura scratched his head and continued emphatically, "I mean, it's like I am seeing Fuji's face and smile and hearing his voice, but it's not him! Tezuka, that can't be good for him, hiding all his feelings this way."

Tezuka had kept silent because he did not want to tell Kawamura the truth: no, it was not good for Fuji. In fact, it was akin to a slow suicide.

Fuji had not allowed his heart to stop bleeding. Even as the gaping wound festered, Fuji was desperately shoring up walls and fighting two debilitating wars: a war to suppress his guilt and pain, and a war to present a happy facade to the outside world. But he was losing badly. As his smile grew broader and his eyes glassier, his flesh was melting away from his slim frame.

The falling Sakura blossoms that had looked like so much like snow to Fuji, had instead looked like tears to Tezuka. It was as if the trees knew that Fuji was weeping inside his sepulchral fortress, and were shedding their tears on his behalf. Half-shrouded in the growing darkness as he sat motionlessly under the tree, Fuji had never seemed farther away from Tezuka's reach.

Was it only nine months ago when they had stood under the same tree and Fuji had given him his farewell present? Tezuka remembered the cool shade of the tree as it shielded them from the heat of the summer sun, casting dappled shadows on the resilient grass. He remembered the excited shouts of running children and the murmurings of their laughing parents. More than anything else, he remembered Fuji's azure blue eyes, twinkling and dancing with light; Fuji's cheeks tinged with the lightest flush and the easy, relaxed quirk of his lips...

A sudden chuckle from Fuji jerked Tezuka back to the present. "Neh Tezuka, don't you find it amusing? I know I laughed my head off when I heard about it."

For a moment, Tezuka's brain vehemently refused to reconcile Fuji with the person walking beside him. This was not Fuji! This was a stranger: a haggard, gaunt person with hollowed cheeks and dark shadows circling his eyes. He looked alien, almost macabre as his mouth distorted into a caricature of a smile. But Tezuka's heart knew what his brain denied.

Something twisted viciously inside Tezuka. He wanted to shake Fuji violently and shout at him: "Why are you doing this? Why do you wear this painful mask even in front of me? I know you are suffering!" A roiling mass of anger, pain, bitterness and yearning slammed into him as he screamed inside his head. "Don't you trust me? Fuji Syusuke! Don't you trust me at all?"

The wave of anguish that assailed his senses was so overwhelmingly acute that Tezuka was suddenly incapacitated. It was only through the sheer force of his will that he did not crumple into half and gasp for his breath. However, he could not stop his steps from faltering as his knuckles turned white with his effort to conceal his emotions.

"Neh, Tezuka. What's wrong? Daijoubu?" Fuji had noticed his lapse.

"It was just a spasm in my leg. I am fine, Fuji." Tezuka face was inscrutable as he said calmly. "Let's move on. We are almost there."

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Fuji came to an abrupt halt as they arrived in front of the sprawling sports complex. "Why are we visiting this place, Tezuka?"

"They have indoor tennis courts." Holding Fuji's wrist in a vise-like grip, Tezuka stared implacably into Fuji's suddenly frightened eyes and bloodless, unsmiling face. "We are going to have a match."

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Phew! I had mental blocks writing this chapter! As a result, the writing may seem either disjointed or meandering. *Sweat drops* Sorry readers! Please offer me any criticisms to help improve my writing. ^_^

Now for the thank-you bouquets!

Suke-san: Oh dear, was I too graphic? Gomen, gomen! It is necessary as a plot device-you will find out the rationale for his behavior in the next chapter. (LOL, shamelessly asking you to stick with this fic. I'll buy you cherry, kaisho and mint toothpaste in return.)

glitter-baby111, Feichang, Jacqueline, tezuka eiri: Thank you for your very kind words. Your support has really encouraged me. I make an effort to keep Fuji, Tezuka and the everybody else in character-hopefully none of their reactions are too over the top. I am a dedicated believer of happy endings, so no worries. XD

MaiSieuPhong0102, wadeva and hikaruchi: I never thought reviews would make me feel pressured! LOL. That's a healthy type of pressure I guess---you have really motivated me. Thank you for your reviews, I feel humbled by them. I hope you will not be disappointed with this chapter. (gives a deep bow)