A/N: Because I really, really, really want to write. Now beta-ed thanks to aniprincess_13 in LJ. A gift to my mommy, lafuego, who resigned from writing TeFu fics. Hope you like this and get inspired.

Disclaimer: PoT isn't mine. Will never be mine.


"Where is the real you?"

In front of you, he wanted to answer. Right here. Right where you don't want to see.

But he said nothing because no truth he could provide would reach the other. Because you refused to see. Because you refused to hear. Because you refuse to know. Because you only care to take, take, take but never give.

So Fuji smiled and turned away because it's the only form of answer Tezuka would take.


Where is the real you?

No, not the stoic captain, not the gifted tennis player, not the serious student council president, not the model student, not the perfect son.

Where is the real Tezuka Kunimitsu?

Sometimes Fuji caught him staring into the distance, his guard lowered just slightly. He would wonder then if he had witnessed the answer to the years old question. Then the second passed and as those impenetrable eyes locked onto him, Fuji thought that perhaps he would always look but never find.


"Where are you?"

The question still caused strange flutters in his heart. Was he still searching for Fuji's true self just as Fuji was still and will always be searching for Tezuka's?

Fuji smiled, made an excuse for his lateness, and asked Tezuka to relay an apology to their waiting friends. Later that night, through the celebration of victory, of memory, of hopes, of life, he watched avidly for a flicker of the coveted truth. As many nights before, he saw none.

Where is the real you, Tezuka Kunimitsu?

In the cold, lonely night Fuji thought that one day the time would come when he would have to accept that he wasn't meant to know.


"Where is he?"

Fuji paced around the hall, glancing at his watch, noting it was well past the time they should all gather for the reunion. Tezuka was never late. He never was.

Fuji shouldn't care, shouldn't pay attention, should just let go, should just give up, should stop loving. But here he was, a lost cause due to Tezuka's uncharacteristic absence. He had no one to blame but himself.

His call finally got through and he sighed in relief when he heard the familiar voice. But something was different, he could feel it in his heart, in is soul, in every fiber of his being. The unsettling feeling refused to leave. Fuji knew something had changed.

"Fuji, I'm going to get married."

And he knew. He knew he couldn't deny it. The smile in the voice, the warmth, the sincerity, the truth, the real Tezuka Kunimitsu, the answer to the question of his soul, the one he would never haveā€¦ And he would lock the memory away along with the broken fragments of his true self in his heart because it wasn't his to keep, because it was for him to let go, because he could not stop his selfishly selfless love.


A/N: I hate myself for allowing Tezuka to marry some woman... Anyway, on a rather random note, could someone tell me the equvalent of Nanami (a Japanese name that could mean no name) in Chinese? Thank you, sorry for the randomness, and R&R, please.