A/N: This was originally a DBSK/TVXQ/Tohoshinki RPS but due to my immense guilt towards the very real boys, ended up as TeFu… I wonder if that was a good thing at all. Enjoy?
Disclaimer: I don't even have a job. How could I own PoT?
The Shining Star
He was everything that was right. No, there's nothing wrong with him, not a single flaw. He was perfection; beautiful, brilliant, and talented; everything many could only wish to be. Though perhaps it's his flawlessness that was his greatest flaw, his greatest weakness, his gift became his constant source of pain that none but him could alleviate.
He drew interest and affection easily. He smiled and greeted and talked and laughed and made everyone fall in love with him. Those who hated him were blinded by insensible jealousy, a reverse self hatred stemmed from insecurity because everyone paled in comparison to him. But more often than not, no one could resist loving, adoring, worshiping, and coveting him. Not one hour since you saw him you were already jealous of anyone who dared to lay his eyes on him.
He was everything you shouldn't want. Your eyes were inevitably drawn to every single move he made. Your ears strained to hear his voice. Your heart beat uncontrollably whenever you felt his presence nearby. He was the centre of your universe but you remained aloof, unwilling to be drawn too close by his gravity because you feared you'd collided and ruined the both of you and you couldn't risk your star for a brief moment of satisfaction for your humble self. Still you couldn't fight the magnetism, couldn't fight your desire to be near him. You let him approach you because you needed to taste a bit of heaven only he could provide.
There were phone calls in the night (the ones you'd stay awake for despite exhaustion, exams, and murderous schedules) of giggles and whispered stories. You didn't dare to ask if you're the only one he called. The longer the fantasy lasted, the better for you weren't sure you could handle the heartbreak. You knew he was not to be bound down, he was to be let go. And though you wished there were more than a smile, a handshake, well wishes, and a goodbye, you watch him leave, walk out of the door. That shining star left you alone and cold in the darkness of seemingly endless night.
Of course you do. Not a single second since the day you must let him go did you stop thinking about him; the one who visited you in dreams, haunted you in wakefulness. You let him led you to a small café and listened to what happened to his life in the past two years (the hopes, the magic, the miracles. He was truly a star no one could overlook for too long). You observed the change, saw that with the dyed hair and stylish outfits you never liked, the shining star burnt brighter. More people noticed that now and that strong urge to openly claim him as only yours returned. But no, he was not to be tied down and you forced yourself to be content just watching him shine.
And shine he did like a hundred- no, a thousand-no, a million suns. Brighter than the artificial lights above him, louder than the worshipping crowds before him, more powerful than the melody beating around him, he exploded, a beautiful supernova. But instead of perishing, he incarnated into a grander star, one that drew you closer and closer, burnt you, claimed you until you were no more and he was your world, your universe, your existence, your life.
The heat, the music, the excitement suffocated you, made you, broke you, possessed you. You saw him smile (at you, only you. Please, let it be you) and felt your heart almost burst in your chest out of pride, passion, and love for him, for your one and only shining star.
It was an unusual relationship as you couldn't be more different from each other but you'd take whatever he was willing to offer (desperate? You'd rather think eager). He called you to ask how you're doing, complain about endless schedules of concerts, tell his family's (and the rest of the world's) pride for his achievements, and spoke of the words that wouldn't stop forming in his mind. When he was tired he would sigh and it warmed you to think that only you have the privilege of knowing the humane side of this shining star.
"I'm so tired." He said, airy and hollow and a tad lonely that you were dying to run there and embrace him and soothe him like you couldn't.
You knew he smiled, could hear it in his melodious voice when he replied. "I can't. Too excited about tomorrow's performance. But I'll try."
You'd never know if he could sleep but hoped so. It was way past midnight and even stars needed rest perhaps even more so than mere mortals like you. You whispered good night to the darkness of your room, knowing it wouldn't reach him but still tried because he made you believe that hopes and dreams could come true.
Your mother said you barely cried as a child. You had always been silent and mature, a blessing in the serious household you grew up in. You learnt to rein your emotions, knowing that it would interfere against better judgment.
It was your third year in college and limited time had brought you apart from the light of your universe's star. The phone calls were rare but not nonexistent, a reassurance that you were not forgotten. You watched and listened to him through the media, the only way you could try to reach out to the unattainable.
You were sitting in your apartment's living room when the news reached you and you broke down. Truly, truly broke down and cried.
Music sensation Fuji Syuusuke is in a coma due to car accident
You ran to the hospital, fought through weeping fans and unmoving goons to no avail. The world had betrayed you, considered you insignificant despite your need to be with him. You screamed and begged for its mercy but everyone turned his back on you. It left your heart torn and bleeding in fear, concern, and love and your tears just wouldn't stop flowing as devastation overwhelmed you. You didn't know how to live without him.
You watched avidly as the newscaster reported the star's awakening nearly a month later. The last tear was shed and a ray of light slipped into the darkness of your life. You followed his development quietly while fighting of the regret and disappointment for not being there to support him like the way he guided you with his light. You convinced yourself that it's enough just like this because he had so much to show the world and you could only hold him back with your flaws. The pain was there, stinging, fresh, and real but you forced yourself to ignore it. You braced yourself to move on like he would and you couldn't.
There was no reason to even hope for him to stand in front of your door one night three weeks later but there he was, smiling softly, apologizing for the unexpected visit. You immediately knew something wasn't right, the light he shone seemed dimmer somehow. His eyes were glazy, his voice too soft, his body too thin and you wished you could pull him into your arms where you knew he would fit perfectly.
"The doctor said I might not be able to sing again."
He didn't cry. It was only a prediction but a prediction from one of the best doctors in the world was as good as a fact, or in this case a death sentence. He said nothing more for a long moment but you understood perfectly the disappointment, the anxiety, the fear, the confusion that were heightened by others' eager, heartless expectations. He was lost, his soul murdered brutally by irresponsible stranger. His hands trembled slightly but you knew he wanted you to think he was strong so you didn't reach out for him even though you desperately wanted to. His sighs were long and suffering and hollow. The light dimmed even more and you felt cold, bitter darkness crept closer, ready to swallow you both.
"I don't know what to do." He whispered in defeat, a confession no one but you would know.
Something in your heart tore but then you looked into his eyes and realized the truth he couldn't say, the truth he wanted you to release. Not a single second of hesitance fleeted through your mind as you seized the plea. You'd do anything for him.
The two of you left one summer day. It was a perfect time for travelling, he told you with that beautiful smile of his. You saw a spark behind layers of disconcerting uncertainty and nodded in full agreement.
"I want to see the beaches. I want to see the mountains. I want to see the forest. I want to see everything." He wanted to get away from there.
And just like that, you left behind the three years you've invested your thoughts on. A year off or two or three didn't matter. You'd do anything for him, to see the star shine bright again. He glowed under the sun and in his smile you saw a tiny hope for a summer miracle that made you want to believe, too. With that hope in mind, you started the engine and drove off.
You stayed in tiny hostels and ate in small dingy restaurants where few would recognize him. When he was recognized, you'd frown and glower, played the role of a guard so good he'd laugh and forget his sorrow for a while. You drove him to the mountains, beaches, and forests. Carefully, you picked places where he would have the privacy to dance and sing and be happy.
Sometimes he'd hum love songs you were so familiar with to fill the silence you carried with you. He didn't trust his voice yet but occasionally he would softly sing to himself when he thought that you're asleep. The music rarely last very long. Silence would soon reign again and he'd try to be strong because he didn't know yet that you'd be there to catch him when he fell.
He needed his privacy to be vulnerable and you tried your best to give it to him. But only few things escaped your attention and it could be pure torment to leave him to deal with his demons on his own.
There were phone calls at night. You heard him talk in the bathroom quietly, speak in placating words to agitating, selfish callers. He tried to be strong, he tried to be patient, he tried to be kind, he tried to be understanding, he tried too much. As much as it pleased you when he said he wasn't returning yet, it made you feel extremely guilty. It seemed like you robbed the light from the needy dark universe, casted it into unending bitter cold night. But he wanted this, needed this and you were the only one willing to provide this to him, to help him regain passion and strength he needed to shine and every single time you wiped his tears in the dim light of the dawn, your resolve grew stronger and stronger. You didn't care if this made you a villain or a thief. You'd do anything to put him back to the sky where he's supposed to be.
There was only silence in the room. He had turned the TV off, preferring to watch the rain than his own image from the past. You dared not disturbed him, pretending to read a newspaper when you were actually watching him sitting by the window. You knew about the hysterical call last night, had wiped his tears away just this morning, heard his muffled sobs in the bathroom. As much as you wanted to take him into your arms to comfort him, you knew better than to ruin his frail dignity.
You looked up when soft, haunting voice broke the serenity. It was a song of summer dream, youthful optimism, hopes, and love. He stopped midway, his voice cracking not from mere emotion. He looked up to the grey clouds hanging low above the earth, perhaps to prevent the tears from flowing.
"How far are you willing to go for me?"
The doubts, fear, and fragility in the voice made you put down the newspaper, leave the bed, and sit beside him. When he finally looked at you, you saw dampness in his eyes and this time couldn't resist the urge to wipe it away. "As far as you want to go." You answered quietly but with enough power to let him know your sincerity.
He looked at you with a smile so beautiful and so lonely it crushed your heart. "Even to the end of the earth?"
There was more to the question than a joke. You saw right through it and were overwhelmed by compassion and affection so pure and powerful you thought your heart might burst from its sheer intensity.
He tasted sweeter than you thought he would, felt finer than you dared to imagine. The moment felt like an eternity but didn't seem long enough. You caressed his cheek as you looked into his eyes to convince him of the unchangeable truth and this time he was the one leaning in to kiss you.
He kissed you in the car, in the hotel rooms, in the park, under the stars, when it rains, when it's sunny. He kissed you when he's exceptionally lonely and the insecurity of uncertain tomorrow clenched around him too tightly. He kissed you when the persistent callers refused to understand. He kissed you when you took him to a deserted beach to see the sun set and the moon rise on the distant horizon.
He began to sing more though mostly still when he thought you weren't listening (oh, but you're always listening). Of course he didn't know that and you had no intention of letting him know anytime soon. It'd be your little secret until he was ready to know.
You celebrated with him when he didn't have to strain his vocal chords to sing high notes. He kissed you deep and long and silly until you're both too breathless to speak and he looked at you and giggled and you saw the star once again begin to shine.
It had been over three months and the weather had gone cooler. You saw his fear at the first signs of flu and wrapped your arms around his petite body to calm him as he took some medicine in panic. The illness never got that bad but he always made sure to wear thick clothing and you were always ready to provide extra warmth with your embrace.
Sometimes he left secretly when you were asleep at the hotel, too exhausted to notice his soft footsteps and gentle kiss. His rough voice when he returned hours later told a story he didn't want to share yet. You'd say nothing and he'd kiss you for your understanding. Then you'd curled up in bed with him, sharing warmth and silence as you waited for the time to continue your travel to the end of the world with him.
Before you knew it, nearly half a year had passed. You had almost believed that he belonged to you only but also realized that the time would soon come for you to let him go. You heard him sing more often, more confidently, his skill almost perfectly covered what science could not fix. You saw the look in his eyes when he watched the news about his mysterious disappearance. You saw the excitement that fear immediately quenched down. You recognized the longing in his eyes when he heard about a renowned artist performing in the area. You knew what it meant but waited in silence because you wanted him to decide.
"I've asked too much from you." He whispered one night when the two of you were laying on a cheap double bed, holding hands to fight of the chill the thin blanket couldn't ward off. He ignored your frown and continued. "I lean on you too much, too long."
You pulled him into your arms to deny but his sigh told you he didn't buy it. "I'll do anything for you." You finally said. There was no need for cheesy four-lettered word. He knew that you knew that he knew and that was enough. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and you kissed his forehead, a loving gesture he understood well.
He already left when you woke up in the morning. There was no note, no good bye. You felt the pricking hollow in your chest, the comfort you felt whenever he was near had gone. You lay in the bed for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, basking in his lingering presence, warmth, scent… There was no need to cry. The star had returned to the sky.
His grand re-appearance was all over the media some three months after you returned to the dull life you've abandoned. You sat in front of the TV, watching him sing and dance and smile like nothing had happened. He outshone every other stars, making them seem small and insignificant and you smiled because he had returned to the way he was supposed to be.
The world praised his latest song as the best he had made as of yet. It was a touching song though bitterly mature, a testament for his brilliant transition from a teenage idol into a well respected musician. The song was a message, he explained, to the person he loved the most in the world, the person he looked forward to meeting, the person he'd give his body, heart, and soul to. You weren't sure you wanted to know who this person was but knew for sure that your star was that person to you.
You often dreamt of the summer days you spent with him. You saw yellow sunflowers, blue sky, rain, rainbows, and shores when you closed your eyes to rest. Sometimes you almost believed that the days hadn't ended and he was still with you. Sometimes you'd linger in bed a little longer than usual, drowned in wishful thinking until loneliness rouse you back to reality.
It was the best, you knew. The knowledge eased some of the pain, gave you the strength you needed to live with the hollow in your soul that only he could fill. You smiled slightly, remembering eyes bluer than the sky, voice more beautiful than the crashing waves on the shore, kisses gentler than the summer rain, and a star brighter than the sun.
When he called again nearly a year later you realized he had changed. There were strength and maturity you knew he had but had never seen. This time they were real, not feigned like the used to be when millions pairs of eyes were watching him expectantly. He had gone beyond the wildest dream as himself despite all the pain and fear and loneliness he had experienced. You were so proud of him that your own sorrow and pain were forgotten that instance.
"I took away from you so much." He said in apology.
"You give me a reason." You denied, not wanting his apology because you certainly didn't regret the time you spent with him.
He fell into a contemplative silence for a moment. Was he thinking of the time he spent with you? Would he keep it in his memory always? Would he consider returning to it? You said nothing because you would always be there whatever he might decide. "I want you to live for your own purposes." He said finally.
"Then I'll live for you."
You watched him parade around his girlfriends. There was no jealousy because you knew you'd always be something they couldn't hope to be. You knew he didn't love them. The fascination lingered for just a moment because everything skin-deep (the hair, the eyes, the lips, the cleavage, the hips) wasn't meant to last. He grew out of them but the public wouldn't and couldn't grow out of him. You celebrated his victories in the silence of your apartment with the reminiscence of memories.
His dreams were your dreams; your dreams weren't necessarily his. And that was more than enough.
His interviews were the only way you could get to know what you missed. You watched faithfully each and every one of them, observed the light in his eyes, the warm smile, the truth, and the occasional lies with pride and satisfaction. While there was bitterness because you only got know him via a measly electronic box, you took comfort in knowing that you've witnessed an honest side of him that no one else would know. If that was all he was willing to give, then you would willingly accept it.
"You have reached such a height of success, was there anything else that you would like to gain?"
You saw a brief surprise then thoughtfulness. The silence lasted a brief second longer and though it might mean nothing to most, it spoke volumes to you. "I am living my dreams." You knew there was uncertainty in his smile.
He began to lose his edge. At first it wasn't so obvious; people contributed it to severe exhaustion and sent him get-well cards and gifts. But soon they began to realize that his voice wasn't as soulful, his performances aren't as passionate, and his music not as inspiring. You felt him slipping away from his pedestal and you wished you could call, could be there to give him support you knew he needed but held yourself back because you knew he'd try to be strong on his own.
Then one rainy day you found him at your door. Before you uttered a single word, he kissed you long and hard and playful and passionate. He melted you with his heat, encouraged you with his gentleness, blinded you with his light. He allowed you to worship him over and over again. The shining star grew brighter in your arms and you didn't care to be burnt to ashes as long as you could be with him.
"I have a request." He said rather breathlessly, with a smile so sweet, so beautiful you wanted to get down on your knees.
"Anything." You gasped, incoherent by his light. "Anything for you."
He smiled gratefully then leaned toward you to whisper a secret truth. "I want to leave this place. Go to a place where I can sing and dance for me, you, and no one else. A place where I could see the ocean, the mountain, the forest, sunflowers, everything! I want to wake up to the rising sun, sleep to the sound of the crickets' songs! I want to play in the beach, travel in the woods, dance to the stars, sing to the wind!" He stopped to giggle like the innocent child he was inside. "Ne, Mitsu, do you think we'd find such a place?"
We. The word sounded so beautiful you felt our heart expanded in your chest out of immense joy. You embraced your shining star, took his warmth, and gave your heart, body and soul in return.
"Anything. I'll do anything for you."
A/N: written partially because I wrote too many fics with Fuji being the martyr. This started up in my head with Jaejoong as Fuji but I just couldn't write this past the first few lines with that thought in mind T.T Anyway, nearly to the end of the fic I realized that Tezuka sounded like an obsessive fan and a sinister part of me wanted to end it as Tezuka's mere imagination that drove him crazy enough to murder Fuji who didn't even know who he was. Aren't you glad that I managed to fight that muse? XDD Anyway, please review. It might save me from killing myself during the field practice!